WAR  IN  THE 
GARDEN 
OF  EDEN 


KERMIT 
ROOSEVELT 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  Of 

CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 


**\ 


385  Wash'o  St. Boston 


War  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden 


Kermit  Roosevelt 

From  the  drawing  by  John  S.  Sargent,  July  8,  1917 


War  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden 


<By 
Kermit  Roosevelt 

Captain  Motor  Machine-Gun  Corp» 
British  Expeditionary  Forcei 

Captain  Field  Artillery 
American  Expeditionary  Forces 


Illustrated  from  Photographs  by  the  Author 


New  York 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
1919 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  September,  1919 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY  THE  METROPOLITAN  PUBLICATIONS,  INC. 


To 

The  Memory  of  My  Father 


Contents 


MM 

I.    OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA 3 

II.    THE  TIGRIS  FRONT 31 

III.  PATROLLING  THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON  .     .  63 

IV.  SKIRMISHES  AND  RECONNAISSANCES  ALONG 

THE  KURDISH  FRONT 85 

V.    THE  ADVANCE  ON  THE  EUPHRATES     .      .  101 

VI.    BAGHDAD  SKETCHES 135 

VII.    THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT  .     .  153 

VIII.    BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE 189 

IX.    WITH  THE  FIRST  DIVISION  IN  FRANCE  AND 
GERMANY  .     .     . 


Illustrations 

Kermit  Roosevelt Frontispiece 

FACING   PAGE 

Map  of  Mesopotamia  showing  region  of  the  fighting  .     .  8 

Ashar  Creek  at  Basra. 14 

Golden  Dome  of  Samarra 34 

Rafting  down  from  Tekrit 34 

Captured  Turkish  camel  corps 50 

Towing  an  armored  car  across  a  river 66 

Reconnaissance 66 

The  Lion  of  Babylon 78 

A  dragon  on  the  palace  wall 78 

Hauling  out  a  badly  bogged  fighting  car 92 

• .  '    » ' .  • 

A  Mesopotamian  garage 92 

A  water-wheel  on  the  Euphrates 106 

A  "Red  Crescent"  ambulance 124 

A  jeweller's  booth  in  the  bazaar 140 

Indian  cavalry  bringing  in  prisoners  after  the  charge      .  158 

ix 


x  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  Kurd  and  his  wife 168 

Sheik  Muttar  and  the  two  Kurds    ....     1     1     .  168 

Kirkuk  .............     i     .     .  180 

A  street  in  Jerusalem  .     .     .     . 196 

Japanese  destroyers  passing  through  the  gut  at  Taranto  206 


I 

Off  for  Mesopotamia 


WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

I 

OFF  .FOR  MESOPOTAMIA 

It  was  at  Taranto  that  we  embarked  for 
Mesopotamia.  Reinforcements  were  sent  out 
from  England  in  one  of  two  ways — either  all 
the  way  round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  or  by 
train  through  France  and  Italy  down  to  the 
desolate  little  seaport  of  Taranto,  and  thence 
by  transport  over  to  Egypt,  through  the  Suez 
Canal,  and  on  down  the  Red  Sea  to  the  Indian 
Ocean  and  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  latter 
method  was  by  far  the  shorter,  but  the  sub- 
marine situation  in  the  Mediterranean  was 
such  that  convoying  troops  was  a  matter  of 
great  difficulty.  Taranto  is  an  ancient  Greek 
town,  situated  at  the  mouth  of  a  landlocked 
harbor,  the  entrance  to  which  is  a  narrow 
channel,  certainly  not  more  than  two  hundred 
yards  across.  The  old  part  of  the  town  is 
built  on  a  hill,  and  the  alleys  and  runways 
winding  among  the  great  stone  dwellings  serve 

as  streets.    As  is  the  case  with  maritime  towns, 

s 


4      WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

it  is  along  the  wharfs  that  the  most  interest 
centres.  During  one  afternoon  I  wandered 
through  the  old  town  and  listened  to  the  fisher- 
folk  singing  as  they  overhauled  and  mended 
their  nets.  Grouped  around  a  stone  archway 
sat  six  or  seven  women  and  girls.  They  were 
evidently  members  of  one  family — a  grand- 
mother, her  daughters,  and  their  children. 
The  old  woman,  wild,  dark,  and  hawk-featured, 
was  blind,  and  as  she  knitted  she  chanted 
some  verses.  I  could  only  understand  occa- 
sional words  and  phrases,  but  it  was  evidently 
a  long  epic.  At  intervals  her  listeners  would 
break  out  in  comments  as  they  worked,  but, 
like  "Othere,  the  old  sea-captain,"  she  "neither 
paused  nor  stirred." 

There  are  few  things  more  desolate  than 
even  the  best  situated  "rest-camps  " — the  long 
lines  of  tents  set  out  with  military  precision, 
the  trampled  grass,  and  the  board  walks;  but 
the  one  at  Taranto  where  we  awaited  embarka- 
tion was  peculiarly  dismal  even  for  a  rest- 
camp.  So  it  happened  that  when  Admiral  Mark 
Kerr,  the  commander  of  the  Mediterranean 
fleet,  invited  me  to  be  his  guest  aboard  H.M.S. 
Queen  until  the  transport  should  sail,  it  was 
in  every  way  an  opportunity  to  be  appreciated. 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA  5 

In  the  British  Empire  the  navy  is  the  "senior 
service,"  and  I  soon  found  that  the  tradition 
for  the  hospitality  and  cultivation  of  its  officers 
was  more  than  justified.  The  admiral  had 
travelled,  and  read,  and  written,  and  no  more 
pleasant  evenings  could  be  imagined  than 
those  spent  in  listening  to  his  stories  of  the 
famous  writers,  statesmen,  and  artists  who 
were  numbered  among  his  friends.  He  had 
always  been  a  great  enthusiast  for  the  devel- 
opment of  aerial  warfare,  and  he  was  recently 
in  Nova  Scotia  in  command  of  the  giant  Hand- 
ley-Page  machine  which  was  awaiting  favorable 
weather  conditions  in  order  to  attempt  the  non- 
stop transatlantic  flight.  Among  his  poems 
stands  out  the  "Prayer  of  Empire,"  which, 
oddly  enough,  the  former  German  Emperor 
greatly  admired,  ordering  it  distributed 
throughout  the  imperial  navy !  The  Kaiser's 
feelings  toward  the  admiral  have  suffered  an 
abrupt  change,  but  they  would  have  been 
even  more  hostile  had  England  profited  by 
his  warnings: 

"  There's  no  menace  in  preparedness,  no  threat  in  being 

strong, 

If  the  people's  brain  be  healthy  and  they  think  no 
thought  of  wrong." 


6      WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

After  four  or  five  most  agreeable  days  aboard 
the  Queen  the  word  came  to  embark,  and  I 
was  duly  transferred  to  the  Saxon,  an  old 
Union  Castle  liner  that  was  to  run  us  straight 
through  to  Busra. 

As  we  steamed  out  of  the  harbor  we  were 
joined  by  two  diminutive  Japanese  destroyers 
which  were  to  convoy  us.  The  menace  of  the 
submarine  [being  particularly  felt  in  the  Adri- 
atic, the  transports  travelled  only  by  night 
during  the  first  part  of  the  voyage.  To  a  lands- 
man it  was  incomprehensible  how  it  was  possi- 
ble for  us  to  pursue  our  zigzag  course  in  the 
inky  blackness  and  avoid  collisions,  particularly 
when  it  was  borne  in  mind  that  our  ship  was 
English  and  our  conveyers  were  Japanese.  Dur- 
ing the  afternoon  we  were  drilled  in  the  method 
of  abandoning  ship,  and  I  was  put  in  charge  of  a 
lifeboat  and  a  certain  section  of  the  ropes  that 
were  to  be  used  in  our  descent  over  the  side  into 
the  water.  Between  twelve  and  one  o'clock  that 
night  we  were  awakened  by  three  blasts,  the 
preconcerted  danger-signal.  Slipping  into  my 
life-jacket,  I  groped  my  way  to  my  station  on 
deck.  The  men  were  filing  up  in  perfect  order 
and  with  no  show  of  excitement.  A  ship's 
officer  passed  and  said  he  had  heard  that  we 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA  7 

had  been  torpedoed  and  were  taking  in  water. 
For  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  we  knew  nothing 
further.  A  Scotch  captain  who  had  charge  of 
the  next  boat  to  me  came  over  and  whispered: 
"  It  looks  as  if  we'd  go  down.  I  have  just  seen 
a  rat  run  out  along  the  ropes  into  my  boat ! " 
That  particular  rat  had  not  been  properly 
brought  up,  for  shortly  afterward  we  were 
told  that  we  were  not  sinking.  We  had  been 
rammed  amidships  by  one  of  the  escorting 
destroyers,  but  the  breach  was  above  the 
water-line.  We  heard  later  that  the  destroyer, 
though  badly  smashed  up,  managed  to  make 
land  in  safety. 

We  laid  up  two  days  in  a  harbor  on  the 
Albanian  coast,  spending  the  time  pleasantly 
enough  in  swimming  and  sailing,  while  we 
waited  for  a  new  escort.  Another  night's  run 
put  us  in  Navarino  Bay.  The  grandfather  of 
Lieutenant  Finch  Hatton,  one  of  the  officers 
on  board,  commanded  the  Allied  forces  in  the 
famous  battle  fought  here  in  1827,  when  the 
Turkish  fleet  was  vanquished  and  the  inde- 
pendence of  Greece  assured. 

Several  days  more  brought  us  to  Port  Said, 
and  after  a  short  delay  we  pushed  on  through 
the  canal  and  into  the  Red  Sea.  It  was 


8      WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

August,  and  when  one  talks  of  the  Red  Sea 
in  August  there  is  no  further  need  for  com- 
ment. The  Saxon  had  not  been  built  for  the 
tropics.  She  had  no  fans,  nor  ventilating 
system  such  as  we  have  on  the  United  Fruit 
boats.  Some  unusually  intelligent  stokers  had 
deserted  at  Port  Said,  and  as  we  were  in  con- 
sequence short-handed,  it  was  suggested  that 
any  volunteers  would  be  given  a  try.  Finch 
Hatton  and  I  felt  that  our  years  in  the  tropics 
should  qualify  us,  and  that  the  exercise  would 
improve  our  dispositions.  We  got  the  exer- 
cise. Never  have  I  felt  anything  as  hot,  and 
I  have  spent  August  in  Yuma,  Arizona,  and 
been  in  Italian  Somaliland  and  the  Amazon 
Valley.  The  shovels  and  the  handles  of  the 
wheelbarrows  blistered  our  hands. 

We  had  a  number  of  cases  of  heat-stroke, 
and  the  hospital  facilities  on  a  crowded  trans- 
port can  never  be  all  that  might  be  desired, 
The  first  military  burial  at  sea  was  deeply  im- 
pressive. There  was  a  lane  of  Tommies  drawn 
up  with  their  rifles  reversed  and  heads  bowed; 
the  short,  classic  burial  service  was  read,  and 
the  body,  wrapped  in  the  Union  Jack,  slid 
down  over  the  stern  of  the  ship.  Then  the 
bugles  rang  out  in  the  haunting,  mournful 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA  9 

strains  of  the  "Last  Post/*  and  the  service 
ended  with  all  singing  "Abide  With  Me." 

We  sweltered  along  down  the  Red  Sea  and 
around  into  the  Indian  Ocean.  We  wished  to 
call  at  Aden  in  order  to  disembark  some  of  our 
sick,  but  were  ordered  to  continue  on  without 
touching.  Our  duties  were  light,  and  we 
spent  the  time  playing  cards  and  reading. 
The  Tommies  played  "house"  from  dawn  till 
dark.  It  is  a  game  of  the  lotto  variety. 
Each  man  has  a  paper  with  numbers  written 
on  squares;  one  of  them  draws  from  a  bag 
slips  of  paper  also  marked  with  numbers,  calls 
them  out,  and  those  having  the  number  he 
calls  cover  it,  until  all  the  numbers  on  their 
paper  have  been  covered.  The  first  one  to 
finish  wins,  and  collects  a  penny  from  each  of 
the  losers.  The  caller  drones  out  the  num- 
bers with  a  monotony  only  equalled  by  the 
brain-fever  bird,  and  quite  as  disastrous  to  the 
nerves.  There  are  certain  conventional  nick- 
names: number  one  is  always  "Kelley's  eye," 
eleven  is  "legs  eleven,"  sixty-six  is  "clickety 
click,"  and  the  highest  number  is  "top  o*  the 
'ouse."  There  is  another  game  that  would  be 
much  in  vogue  were  it  not  for  the  vigilance 
of  the  officers.  It  is  known  as  "crown  and 


10  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

anchor,"  and  the  advantage  lies  so  strongly  in 
favor  of  the  banker  that  he  cannot  fail  to  make 
a  good  income,  and  therefore  the  game  is  for- 
bidden under  the  severest  penalties. 

As  we  passed  through  the  Strait  of  Ormuz 
memories  of  the  early  days  of  European  suprem- 
acy in  the  East  crowded  back,  for  I  had  read 
many  a  vellum-covered  volume  in  Portuguese 
about  the  early  struggles  for  supremacy  in  the 
gulf.  One  in  particular  interested  me.  The  Por- 
tuguese were  hemmed  in  at  Ormuz  by  a  greatly 
superior  English  force.  The  expected  rein- 
forcements never  arrived,  and  at  length  their 
resources  sank  so  low,  and  they  suffered  in 
addition,  or  in  consequence,  so  greatly  from 
disease  that  they  decided  to  sail  forth  and  give 
battle.  This  they  did,  but  before  they  joined 
in  fight  the  ships  of  the  two  admirals  sailed 
up  near  each  other — the  Portuguese  commander 
sent  the  British  a  gorgeous  scarlet  ceremonial 
cloak,  the  British  responded  by  sending  him 
a  handsomely  embossed  sword.  The  British 
admiral  donned  the  cloak,  the  Portuguese 
grasped  the  sword;  a  page  brought  each  a 
cup  of  wine;  they  pledged  each  other,  threw 
the  goblets  into  the  sea,  and  fell  to.  The 
British  were  victorious.  Times  indeed  have 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA         11 

sadly  changed  in  the  last  three  hundred  years ! 

I  was  much  struck  with  the  accuracy  of  the 
geographical  descriptions  in  Camoens'  letters 
and  odes.  He  is  the  greatest  of  the  Portuguese 
poets  and  wrote  the  larger  part  of  his  master- 
epic,  "The  Lusiad,"  while  exiled  in  India.  For 
seventeen  years  he  led  an  adventurous  life  in 
the  East;  and  it  is  easy  to  recognize  many  har- 
bors and  stretches  of  coast  line  from  his  inimi- 
table portrayal. 

Busra,  our  destination,  lies  about  sixty  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Shatt  el  Arab,  which  is 
the  name  given  to  the  combined  Tigris  and 
Euphrates  after  their  junction  at  Kurna,  an- 
other fifty  or  sixty  miles  above.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  river  lies  a  sand-bar,  effectively  block- 
ing access  to  boats  of  as  great  draft  as  the 
Saxon.  We  therefore  transshipped  to  some 
British  India  vessels,  and  exceedingly  comfort- 
able we  found  them,  designed  as  they  were  for 
tropic  runs.  We  steamed  up  past  the  Island 
of  Abadan,  where  stand  the  refineries  of  the 
Anglo-Persian  Oil  Company.  It  is  hard  to 
overestimate  the  important  part  that  company 
has  played  in  the  conduct  of  the  Mesopotamian 
campaign.  Motor  transport  was  nowhere  else 
a  greater  necessity.  There  was  no  possi- 


12  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

bility  of  living  on  the  country;  at  first,  at 
all  events.  General  Dickson,  the  director  of 
local  resources,  later  set  in  to  so  build  up 
and  encourage  agriculture  that  the  army  should 
eventually  be  supported,  in  the  staples  of  life, 
by  local  produce.  Transportation  was  ever 
a  hard  nut  to  crack.  Railroads  were  built, 
but  though  the  nature  of  the  country  called 
for  little  grading,  obtaining  rails,  except  in 
small  quantities,  was  impossible.  The  ones 
brought  were  chiefly  secured  by  taking  up  the 
double  track  of  Indian  railways.  This  process 
naturally  had  a  limit,  and  only  lines  of  prime 
importance  could  be  laid  down.  Thus  you 
could  go  by  rail  from  Busra  to  Amara,  and  from 
Kut  to  Baghdad,  but  the  stretch  between 
Amara  and  Kut  had  never  been  built,  up  to 
the  time  I  left  the  country.  General  Maude 
once  told  me  that  pressure  was  being  continu- 
ally brought  by  the  high  command  in  England 
or  India  to  have  that  connecting-link  built,  but 
that  he  was  convinced  that  the  rails  would  be 
far  more  essential  elsewhere,  and  had  no  inten- 
tion of  yielding. 

I  don't  know  the  total  number  of  motor 
vehicles,  but  there  were  more  than  five  thou- 
sand Fords  alone.  On  several  occasions  small 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          13 

columns  of  infantry  were  transported  in  Fords, 
five  men  and  the  driver  to  a  car.  Indians  of 
every  caste  and  religion  were  turned  into  driv- 
ers, and  although  it  seemed  sufficiently  out  of 
place  to  come  across  wizened,  khaki-clad  Indo- 
Chinese  driving  lorries  in  France,  the  incon- 
gruity was  even  more  marked  when  one  be- 
held a  great  bearded  Sikh  with  his  turbaned 
head  bent  over  the  steering-wheel  of  a  Ford. 

Modern  Busra  stands  on  the  banks  of  Ashar 
Creek.  The  ancient  city  whence  Sinbad  the 
sailor  set  forth  is  now  seven  or  eight  miles  in- 
land, buried  under  the  shifting  sands  of  the 
desert.  Busra  was  a  seaport  not  so  many 
hundreds  of  years  ago.  Before  that  again, 
Kurna  was  a  seaport,  and  the  two  rivers  prob- 
ably only  joined  in  the  ocean,  but  they  have 
gradually  enlarged  the  continent  and  forced 
back  the  sea.  The  present  rate  of  encroach- 
ment amounts,  I  was  told,  to  nearly  twelve 
feet  a  year. 

The  modern  town  has  increased  many  fold 
with  the  advent  of  the  Expeditionary  Force, 
and  much  of  the  improvement  is  of  a  neces- 
sarily permanent  nature;  hi  particular  the 
wharfs  and  roads.  Indeed,  one  of  the  most 
striking  features  of  the  Mesopotamian  cam- 


paign  is  the  permanency  of  the  improvements 
made  by  the  British.  In  order  to  conquer  the 
country  it  was  necessary  to  develop  it, — build 
railways  and  bridges  and  roads  and  tele- 
graph systems, — and  it  has  all  been  done  in  a 
substantial  manner.  It  is  impossible  to  con- 
template with  equanimity  the  possibility  of  the 
country  reverting  to  a  rule  where  all  this 
progress  would  soon  disappear  and  the  former 
stagnancy  and  injustice  again  hold  sway. 

As  soon  as  we  landed  I  wandered  off  to  the 
bazaar — "suq"  is  what  the  Arab  calls  it.  In 
Busra  there  are  a  number  of  excellent  ones. 
By  that  I  don't  mean  that  there  are  art  trea- 
sures of  the  East  to  be  found  in  them,  for  al- 
most everything  could  be  duplicated  at  a  better 
price  in  New  York.  It  is  the  grouping  of 
wares,  the  mode  of  sale,  and,  above  all,  the 
salesmen  and  buyers  that  make  a  bazaar — 
the  old  bearded  Persian  sitting  cross-legged  in 
his  booth,  the  motley  crowd  jostling  through 
the  narrow,  vaulted  passageway,  the  veiled 
women,  the  hawk-featured,  turbaned  men,  the 
Jews,  the  Chaldeans,  the  Arabs,  the  Armenians, 
the  stalwart  Kurds,  and  through  it  all  a  leaven 
of  khaki-clad  Indians,  purchasing  for  the  regi- 
mental mess.  All  these  and  an  ever-present 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          15 

exotic,  intangible  something  are  what  the 
bazaar  means.  Close  by  the  entrance  stood 
a  booth  festooned  with  lamps  and  lanterns  of 
every  sort,  with  above  it  scrawled  "  Aladdin  - 
Ibn-Said."  My  Arabic  was  not  at  that  time 
sufficient  to  enable  me  to  discover  from  the 
owner  whether  he  claimed  illustrious  ancestry 
or  had  merely  been  named  after  a  patron  saint. 

A  few  days  after  landing  at  Busra  we  em- 
barked on  a  paddle-wheel  boat  to  pursue  our 
way  up-stream  the  five  hundred  intervening 
miles  to  Baghdad.  Along  the  banks  of  the 
river  stretched  endless  miles  of  date-palms. 
We  watched  the  Arabs  at  their  work  of  fertil- 
izing them,  for  in  this  country  these  palms 
have  to  depend  on  human  agency  to  transfer 
the  pollen.  At  Kurna  we  entered  the  Garden 
of  Eden,  and  one  could  quite  appreciate  the 
feelings  of  the  disgusted  Tommy  who  ex- 
claimed: "If  this  is  the  Garden,  it  wouldn't 
take  no  bloody  angel  with  a  flaming  sword  to 
turn  me  back."  The  direct  descendant  of  the 
Tree  is  pointed  out;  whether  its  properties 
are  inherited  I  never  heard,  but  certainly  the 
native  would  have  little  to  learn  by  eating  the 
fruit. 

Above  Kurna  the  river  is  no  longer  lined 


16  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

with  continuous  palm -groves;  desert  and 
swamps  take  their  place — the  abode  of  the 
amphibious,  nomadic,  marsh  Arab.  An  un- 
ruly customer  he  is  apt  to  prove  himself,  and 
when  he  is  "wanted"  by  the  officials,  he  re- 
tires to  his  watery  fastnesses,  where  he  can 
remain  in  complete  safety  unless  betrayed  by 
his  comrades.  On  the  banks  of  the  Tigris 
stands  Ezra's  tomb.  It  is  kept  in  good  repair 
through  every  vicissitude  of  rule,  for  it  is  a 
holy  place  to  Moslem  and  Jew  and  Christian 
alike. 

The  third  night  brought  us  to  Amara.  The 
evening  was  cool  and  pleasant  after  the  scorch- 
ing heat  of  the  day,  and  Finch  Hatton  and  I 
thought  that  we  would  go  ashore  for  a  stroll 
through  the  town.  As  we  proceeded  down 
the  bank  toward  the  bridge,  I  caught  sight  of 
a  sentry  walking  his  post.  His  appearance  was 
so  very  important  and  efficient  that  I  slipped 
behind  my  companion  to  give  him  a  chance 
to  explain  us.  "Halt!  Who  goes  there?" 
"Friend,"  replied  Finch  Hatton.  "Advance, 
friend,  and  give  the  countersign."  F.  H.  started 
to  advance,  followed  by  a  still  suspicious  me, 
and  rightly  so,  for  the  Tommy,  evidently  mem- 
ber of  a  recent  draft,  came  forward  to  meet  us 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          17 

with  lowered  bayonet,  remarking  in  a  business- 
like manner:  "There  isn't  any  countersign." 

Except  for  the  gunboats  and  monitors,  all 
river  traffic  is  controlled  by  the  Inland  Water 
Transport  Service.  The  officers  are  recruited 
from  all  the  world  over.  I  firmly  believe  that 
no  river  of  any  importance  could  be  mentioned 
but  what  an  officer  of  the  I.  W.  T.  could  be 
found  who  had  navigated  it.  The  great  req- 
uisite for  transports  on  the  Tigris  was  a 
very  light  draft,  and  to  fill  the  requirements 
boats  were  requisitioned  ranging  from  penny 
steamers  of  the  Thames  to  river-craft  of  the 
Irrawaddy.  Now  in  bringing  a  penny  steamer 
from  London  to  Busra  the  submarine  is  one  of 
the  lesser  perils,  and  in  supplying  the  wants  of 
the  Expeditionary  Force  more  than  eighty  ves- 
sels were  lost  at  sea,  frequently  with  all  aboard. 

As  was  the  custom,  we  had  a  barge  lashed 
to  either  side.  These  barges  are  laden  with 
troops,  or  horses,  or  supplies.  In  our  case  we 
had  the  first  Bengal  regiment — a  new  experi- 
ment, undertaken  for  political  reasons.  The 
Bengali  is  the  Indian  who  most  readily  takes 
to  European  learning.  Rabindranath  Tagore 
is  probably  the  most  widely  known  member  of 
the  race.  They  go  to  Calcutta  University  and 


18  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

learn  a  smattering  of  English  and  absorb  a 
certain  amount  of  undigested  general  knowl- 
edge and  theory.  These  partially  educated 
Bengalis  form  the  Babu  class,  and  many  are 
employed  in  the  railways.  They  delight  in 
complicated  phraseology,  and  this  coupled  with 
their  accent  and  seesaw  manner  of  speaking 
supply  the  English  a  constant  source  of  cari- 
cature. As  a  race  they  are  inclined  to  be  vain 
and  boastful,  and  are  ever  ready  to  nurse  a 
grievance  against  the  British  Government, 
feeling  that  they  have  been  provided  with  an 
education  but  no  means  of  support.  The 
government  felt  that  it  might  help  to  calm 
them  if  a  regiment  were  recruited  and  sent  to 
Mesopotamia.  How  they  would  do  in  actual 
fighting  had  never  been  demonstrated  up  to 
the  time  I  left  the  country,  but  they  take  readily 
to  drill,  and  it  was  amusing  to  hear  them  or- 
dering each  other  about  in  their  clipped  Eng- 
lish. They  were  used  for  garrisoning  Baghdad. 
After  we  left  Amara  we  continued  our  wind- 
ing course  up-stream.  A  boat  several  hours 
ahead  may  be  seen  only  a  few  hundred  yards 
distant  across  the  desert.  The  banks  are  so 
flat  and  level  that  it  looks  as  if  the  other  ves- 
sels were  steaming  along  on  land.  The  Arab 
river-craft  was  most  picturesque.  At  sunset 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          19 

a  mahela,  bearing  down  with  filled  sail,  might 
have  been  the  model  for  Maxfield  Parrish's 
Pirate  Ship.  The  Arab  women  ran  along  the 
bank  beside  us,  carrying  baskets  of  eggs  and 
chickens,  and  occasionally  melons.  They  were 
possessed  of  surprising  endurance,  and  would 
accompany  us  indefinitely,  heavily  laden  as 
they  were.  Their  robes  trailed  in  the  wind 
as  they  jumped  ditches,  screaming  out  their 
wares  without  a  moment's  pause.  An  Indian 
of  the  boat's  crew  was  haggling  with  a  woman 
about  a  chicken.  He  threw  her  an  eight-anna 
piece.  She  picked  up  the  money  but  would 
not  hand  him  the  chicken,  holding  out  for  her 
original  price.  He  jumped  ashore,  intending 
to  take  the  chicken.  She  had  a  few  yards' 
start  and  made  the  most  of  it.  In  and  out 
they  chased,  over  hedge  and  ditch,  down  the 
bank  and  up  again.  Several  times  he  almost 
had  her.  She  never  for  a  moment  ceased 
screeching — an  operation  which  seemed  to 
affect  her  wind  not  a  particle.  At  the  end  of 
fifteen  minutes  the  Indian  gave  up  amid  the 
delighted  jeers  of  his  comrades,  and  returned 
shamefaced  and  breathless  to  jump  aboard  the 
boat  as  we  bumped  against  the  bank  on  round- 
ing a  curve. 

One   evening   we  halted   where,  not  many 


20  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

months  before,  the  last  of  the  battles  of  Sunnai- 
yat  had  been  fought.  There  for  months  the 
British  had  been  held  back,  while  their  be- 
leaguered comrades  in  Kut  could  hear  the  roar 
of  the  artillery  and  hope  against  hope  for  the 
relief  that  never  reached  them.  It  was  one 
phase  of  the  campaign  that  closely  approxi- 
mated the  gruelling  trench  warfare  in  France. 
The  last  unsuccessful  attack  was  launched  a 
week  before  the  capitulation  of  the  garrison, 
and  it  was  almost  a  year  later  before  the 
position  was  eventually  taken.  The  front-line 
trenches  were  but  a  short  distance  apart,  and 
each  side  had  developed  a  strong  and  elaborate 
system  of  defense.  One  flank  was  protected 
by  an  impassable  marsh  and  the  other  by  the 
river.  When  we  passed,  the  field  presented  an 
unusually  gruesome  appearance  even  for  a 
battle-field,  for  the  wandering  desert  Arabs 
had  been  at  work,  and  they  do  not  clean  up 
as  thoroughly  as  the  African  hyena.  A  num- 
ber had  paid  the  penalty  through  tampering 
with  unexploded  grenades  and  "dud"  shells, 
and  left  their  own  bones  to  be  scattered  around 
among  the  dead  they  had  been  looting.  The 
trenches  were  a  veritable  Golgotha  with  skulls 
everywhere  and  dismembered  legs  still  clad 
with  puttees  and  boots. 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          21 

At  Kut  we  disembarked  to  do  the  remain- 
ing hundred  miles  to  Baghdad  by  rail  instead 
of  winding  along  for  double  the  distance  by 
river,  with  a  good  chance  of  being  hung  up  for 
hours,  or  even  days,  on  some  shifting  sand-bar. 
At  first  sight  Kut  is  as  unpromising  a  spot  as 
can  well  be  imagined,  with  its  scorching  heat 
and  its  sand  and  the  desolate  mud-houses, 
but  in  spite  of  appearances  it  is  an  impor- 
tant and  thriving  little  town,  and  daily  becom- 
ing of  more  consequence. 

The  railroad  runs  across  the  desert,  following 
approximately  the  old  caravan  route  to  Bagh- 
dad. A  little  over  half-way  the  line  passes  the 
remaining  arch  of  the  great  hall  of  Ctesiphon. 
This  hall  is  one  hundred  and  forty-eight  feet 
long  by  seventy-six  broad.  The  arch  stands 
eighty-five  feet  high.  Around  it,  beneath  the 
mounds  of  desert  sand,  lies  all  that  remains  of 
the  ancient  city.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  city 
is  by  no  means  ancient  as  such  things  go  in 
Mesopotamia,  dating  as  it  does  from  the  third 
century  B.  C.,  when  it  was  founded  by  the 
successors  of  Alexander  the  Great. 

My  first  night  in  Baghdad  I  spent  in  Gen- 
eral Maude's  house,  on  the  river-bank.  The 
general  was  a  striking  soldierly  figure  of  a 
man,  standing  well  over  six  feet.  His  military 


22  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

career  was  long  and  brilliant.  His  first  service 
was  in  the  Coldstream  Guards.  He  distin- 
guished himself  in  South  Africa.  Early  in  the 
present  war  he  was  severely  wounded  in  France. 
Upon  recovering  he  took  over  the  Thirteenth 
Division,  which  he  commanded  in  the  disas- 
trous Gallipoli  campaign,  and  later  brought 
out  to  Mesopotamia.  When  he  reached  the 
East  the  situation  was  by  no  means  a  happy 
one  for  the  British.  General  Townshend  was 
surrounded  in  Kut,  and  the  morale  of  the  Turk 
was  excellent  after  the  successes  he  had  met 
with  in  Gallipoli.  In  the  end  of  August,  1916, 
four  months  after  the  fall  of  Kut,  General 
Maude  took  over  the  command  of  the  Meso- 
potamian  forces.  On  the  llth  of  March  of  the 
following  year  he  occupied  Baghdad,  thereby 
re-establishing  completely  the  British  prestige 
in  the  Orient.  One  of  Germany's  most  serious 
miscalculations  was  with  regard  to  the  Indian 
situation.  She  felt  confident  that,  working 
through  Persia  and  Afghanistan,  she  could 
stir  up  sufficient  trouble,  possibly  to  completely 
overthrow  British  rule,  but  certainly  to.  keep 
the  English  so  occupied  with  uprisings  as  to 
force  them  to  send  troops  to  India  rather  than 
withdraw  them  thence  for  use  elsewhere.  The 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          23 

utter  miscarriage  of  Germany's  plans  is,  in- 
deed, a  fine  tribute  to  Great  Britain.  The 
Emir  of  Afghanistan  did  probably  more  than 
any  single  native  to  thwart  German  treachery 
and  intrigue,  and  every  friend  of  the  Allied 
cause  must  have  read  of  his  recent  assassina-^ 
tion  with  a  very  real  regret. 

When  General  Maude  took  over  the  com-' 
mand,  the  effect  of  the  Holy  War  that,  at  the 
Kaiser's  instigation,  was  being  preached  in 
the  mosques  had  not  as  yet  been  determined. 
This  jehad,  as  it  was  called,  proposed  to  unite 
all  "True  Believers"  against  the  invading 
Christians,  and  give  the  war  a  strongly  re- 
ligious aspect.  The  Germans  hoped  by  this 
means  to  spread  mutiny  among  the  Moham- 
medan troops,  which  formed  such  an  appreci- 
able element  of  the  British  forces,  as  well  as  to 
fire  the  fury  of  the  Turks  and  win  as  many  of 
the  Arabs  to  their  side  as  possible.  The  Arab 
thoroughly  disliked  both  sides.  The  Turk 
oppressed  him,  but  did  so  in  an  Oriental,  and 
hence  more  or  less  comprehensible,  manner. 
The  English  gave  him  justice,  but  it  was  an 
Occidental  justice  that  he  couldn't  at  first 
understand  or  appreciate,  and  he  was  dis- 
tinctly inclined  to  mistrust  it.  In  course  of 


24  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

time  he  would  come  to  realize  its  advantages. 
Under  Turkish  rule  the  Arab  was  oppressed 
by  the  Turk,  but  then  he  in  turn  could  op- 
press the  Jew,  the  Chaldean,  and  Nestorian 
Christians,  and  the  wretched  Armenian.  Un- 
der British  rule  he  suddenly  found  these  latter 
on  an  equal  footing  with  him,  and  he  felt  that 
this  did  not  compensate  the  lifting  from  his 
shoulders  of  the  Turkish  burden.  Then,  too, 
when  a  race  has  been  long  oppressed  and  down- 
trodden, and  suddenly  finds  itself  on  an  equal- 
ity with  its  oppressor,  it  is  apt  to  become  arro- 
gant and  overbearing.  This  is  exactly  what 
happened,  and  there  was  bad  feeling  on  all 
sides  in  consequence.  However,  real  funda- 
mental justice  is  appreciated  the  world  over, 
once  the  native  has  been  educated  up  to  it, 
and  can  trust  in  its  continuity. 

The  complex  nature  of  the  problems  facing 
the  army  commander  can  be  readily  seen. 
He  was  an  indefatigable  worker  and  an  unsur- 
passed organizer.  The  only  criticism  I  ever 
heard  was  that  he  attended  too  much  to  the 
details  himself  and  did  not  take  his  subordi- 
nates sufficiently  into  his  confidence.  A  bril- 
liant leader,  beloved  by  his  troops,  his  loss 
was  a  severe  blow  to  the  Allied  cause. 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA          25 

Baghdad  is  often  referred  to  as  the  great 
example  of  the  shattered  illusion.  We  most 
of  us  have  read  the  Arabian  Nights  at  an  early 
age,  and  think  of  the  abode  of  the  caliphs  as  a 
dream  city,  steeped  in  what  we  have  been 
brought  up  to  think  of  as  the  luxury,  romance, 
and  glamour  of  the  East.  Now  glamour  is  a 
delicate  substance.  In  the  all-searching  glare 
of  the  Mesopotamian  sun  it  is  apt  to  appear 
merely  tawdry.  Still,  a  goodly  number  of 
years  spent  in  wandering  about  in  foreign 
lands  had  prepared  me  for  a  depreciation  of 
the  "stuff  that  dreams  are  made  of,"  and  I 
was  not  disappointed.  It  is  unfortunate  that 
the  normal  way  to  approach  is  from  the  south, 
and  that  that  view  of  the  city  is  flat  and  unin- 
teresting. Coming,  as  I  several  times  had 
occasion  to,  from  the  north,  one  first  catches 
sight  of  great  groves  of  date-palms,  with  the 
tall  minarets  of  the  Mosque  of  Kazimain  tow- 
ering above  them;  then  a  forest  of  minarets 
and  blue  domes,  with  here  and  there  some 
graceful  palm  rising  above  the  flat  roofs  of 
Baghdad.  In  the  evening  when  the  setting  sun 
strikes  the  towers  and  the  tiled  roofs,  and  the 
harsh  lights  are  softened,  one  is  again  in  the 
land  of  Haroun-el-Raschid. 


26     WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

The  great  covered  bazaars  are  at  all  times 
capable  of  "eating  the  hours,"  as  the  natives 
say.  One  could  sit  indefinitely  in  a  coffee- 
house and  watch  the  throngs  go  by — the  stal- 
wart Kurdish  porter  with  his  impossible  loads, 
the  veiled  women,  the  unveiled  Christian  or 
lower-class  Arab  women,  the  native  police, 
the  British  Tommy,  the  kilted  Scot,  the  desert 
Arab,  all  these  and  many  more  types  wandered 
past.  Then  there  was  the  gold  and  silver 
market,  where  the  Jewish  and  Armenian  artif- 
icers squatted  beside  their  charcoal  fires  and 
haggled  endlessly  with  their  customers.  These 
latter  were  almost  entirely  women,  and  they 
came  both  to  buy  and  sell,  bringing  old  brace- 
lets and  anklets,  and  probably  spending  the 
proceeds  on  something  newer  that  had  taken 
their  fancy.  The  workmanship  was  almost 
invariably  poor  and  rough.  Most  of  the 
women  had  their  babies  with  them,  little  mites 
decked  out  in  cheap  finery  and  with  their  eye- 
lids thickly  painted.  The  red  dye  from  their 
caps  streaked  their  faces,  the  flies  settled  on 
them  at  will,  and  they  had  never  been  washed. 
When  one  thought  of  the  way  one's  own  chil- 
dren were  cared  for,  it  seemed  impossible  that 
a  sufficient  number  of  these  little  ones  could 


OFF  FOR  MESOPOTAMIA         27 

survive  to  carry  on  the  race.  The  infant  mor- 
tality must  be  great,  though  the  children  one 
sees  look  fat  and  thriving. 

Baghdad  is  not  an  old  city.  Although  there 
was  probably  a  village  on  the  site  time  out  of 
mind,  it  does  not  come  into  any  prominence 
until  the  eighth  century  of  our  era.  As  the 
residence  of  the  Abasside  caliphs  it  rapidly 
assumed  an  important  position.  The  culmina- 
tion of  its  magnificence  was  reached  in  the  end 
of  the  eighth  century,  under  the  rule  of  the 
world-famous  Haroun-el-Raschid.  It  long  con- 
tinued to  be  a  centre  of  commerce  and  indus- 
try, though  suffering  fearfully  from  the  various 
sieges  and  conquests  which  it  underwent.  In 
1258  the  Mongols,  under  a  grandson  of  the  great 
Genghis  Khan,  captured  the  city  and  held  it 
for  a  hundred  years,  until  ousted  by  the  Tar- 
tars under  Tamberlane.  It  was  plundered  in 
turn  by  one  Mongol  horde  after  another  until 
the  Turks,  under  Murad  the  Fourth,  eventually 
secured  it.  Naturally,  after  being  the  scene 
of  so  much  looting  and  such  massacres,  there  is 
little  left  of  the  original  city  of  the  caliphs. 
Then,  too,  in  Mesopotamia  there  is  practically 
no  stone,  and  everything  was  built  of  brick, 
which  readily  lapses  back  to  its  original  state. 


28  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

For  this  reason  the  invaders  easily  razed  a 
conquered  town,  and  Mesopotamia,  so  often 
called  the  "cradle  of  the  world,"  retains  but 
little  trace  of  the  races  and  civilizations  that 
have  succeeded  each  other  in  ruling  the  land. 
When  the  Tigris  was  low  at  the  end  of  the 
summer  season,  we  used  to  dig  out  from  its 
bank  great  bricks  eighteen  inches  square,  on 
which  was  still  distinctly  traced  the  seal  of 
Nebuchadnezzar.  These,  possibly  the  rem- 
nants of  a  quay,  were  all  that  remained  of  the 
times  before  the  advent  of  the  caliphs. 


II 

The  Tigris  Front 


II 

THE  TIGRIS  FRONT 

A  few  days  after  reaching  Baghdad  I  left 
for  Samarra,  which  was  at  that  time  the  Tigris 
front.  I  was  attached  to  the  Royal  Engineers, 
and  my  immediate  commander  was  Major 
Morin,  D.  S.  O.,  an  able  officer  with  an  envia- 
ble record  in  France  and  Mesopotamia.  The 
advance  army  of  the  Tigris  was  the  Third  In- 
dian Army  Corps,  under  the  command  of 
General  Cobbe,  a  possessor  of  the  coveted, 
and  invariably  merited,  Victoria  Cross.  The 
Engineers  were  efficiently  commanded  by  Gen- 
eral Swiney.  The  seventy  miles  of  railroad 
from  Baghdad  to  Samarra  were  built  by 
the  Germans,  being  the  only  Mesopotamian 
portion  of  the  much-talked-of  Berlin-to-Bagh- 
dad  Railway,  completed  before  the  war.  It 
was  admirably  constructed,  with  an  excellent 
road-bed,  heavy  rails  and  steel  cross-ties  made 
by  Krupp.  In  their  retreat  the  Turks  had 
been  too  hurried  to  accomplish  much  in  the 

81 


32  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

way  of  destruction  other  than  burning  down 
a  few  stations  and  blowing  up  the  water-tow- 
ers. The  rolling-stock  had  been  left  largely  in- 
tact. There  were  no  passenger -coaches,  and 
you  travelled  either  by  flat  or  box  car.  Every 
one  followed  the  Indian  custom  of  carrying 
with  them  their  bedding-rolls,  and  leather- 
covered  wash-basin  containing  their  washing- 
kit,  as  well  as  one  of  the  comfortable  rhoorkhee 
chairs.  In  consequence,  although  for  travel 
by  boat  or  train  nothing  was  provided,  there 
was  no  discomfort  entailed.  The  trains  were 
fitted  out  with  anti-aircraft  guns,  for  the  Turk- 
ish aeroplanes  occasionally  tried  to  "lay  eggs," 
a  by  no  means  easy  affair  with  a  moving  train 
as  a  target.  Whatever  the  reason  was,  and  I 
never  succeeded  in  discovering  it,  the  trains 
invariably  left  Baghdad  in  the  wee  small 
hours,  and  as  the  station  was  on  the  right 
bank  across  the  river  from  the  main  town,  and 
the  boat  bridges  were  cut  during  the  night,  we 
used  generally,  when  returning  to  the  front, 
to  spend  the  first  part  of  the  night  sleeping  on 
the  station  platform.  Generals  or  exalted  staff 
officers  could  usually  succeed  in  having  a  car 
assigned  to  them,  and  hauled  up  from  the  yard 
in  time  for  them  to  go  straight  to  bed  in  it. 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  33 

Frequently  their  trip  was  postponed,  and  an 
omniscient  sergeant-major  would  indicate  the 
car  to  the  judiciously  friendly,  who  could  then 
enjoy  a  solid  night's  sleep.  The  run  took 
anywhere  from  eight  to  twelve  hours;  but  when 
sitting  among  the  grain-bags  on  an  open  car, 
or  comfortably  ensconced  in  a  chair  in  a  "  cov- 
ered goods,"  with  Vingt  Ans  Apres,  the  time 
passed  pleasantly  enough  in  spite  of  the  with- 
ering heat. 

While  still  a  good  number  of  miles  away 
from  Samarra  we  would  catch  sight  of  the  sun 
glinting  on  the  golden  dome  of  the  mosque, 
built  over  the  cleft  where  the  twelfth  Imam, 
the  Imam  Mahdi,  is  supposed  to  have  dis- 
appeared, and  from  which  he  is  one  day  to 
reappear  to  establish  the  true  faith  upon  earth. 
Many  Arabs  have  appeared  claiming  to  be  the 
Mahdi,  and  caused  trouble  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree  according  to  the  extent  of  their  follow- 
ing. The  most  troublous  one  in  our  day  was 
the  man  who  besieged  Kharthoum  and  cap- 
tured General  "Chinese"  Gordon  and  his  men. 
Twenty-five  years  later,  when  I  passed  through 
the  Sudan,  there  were  scarcely  any  men  of 
middle  age  left,  for  they  had  been  wiped  out 
almost  to  a  man  under  the  fearful  rule  of  the 


34  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Mahdi,  a  rule  which  might  have  served  as 
prototype  to  the  Germans  in  Belgium. 

Samarra  is  very  ancient,  and  has  passed 
through  periods  of  great  depression  and  equally 
great  expansion.  It  was  here  in  A.  D.  363 
that  the  Roman  Emperor  Julian  died  from 
wounds  received  in  the  defeat  of  his  forces  at 
Ctesiphon.  The  golden  age  lasted  about  forty 
years,  beginning  in  836,  when  the  Caliph  Hu- 
tasim  transferred  his  capital  thither  from 
Baghdad.  During  that  time  the  city  extended 
for  twenty-one  miles  along  the  river-bank, 
with  glorious  palaces,  the  ruins  of  some  of 
which  still  stand.  The  present-day  town  has 
sadly  shrunk  from  its  former  grandeur,  but  still 
has  an  impressive  look  with  its  great  walls  and 
massive  gateways.  The  houses  nearest  the 
walls  are  in  ruins  or  uninhabited;  but  in  peace- 
time the  great  reputation  that  the  climate  of 
Samarra  possesses  for  salubrity  draws  to  it 
many  Baghdad  families  who  come  to  pass  the 
summer  months.  A  good  percentage  of  the 
inhabitants  are  Persians,  for  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  Shiah  Imams  are  buried  on  the  site 
of  the  largest  mosque.  The  two  main  sects 
of  Moslems  are  the  Sunnis  and  the  Shiahs; 
the  former  regard  the  three  caliphs  who  fol- 
lowed Mohammed  as  his  legitimate  successors, 


Golden  Dome  of  Samarra 


Rafting  down  from  Tekrit 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  35 

whereas  the  latter  hold  them  to  be  usurpers, 
and  believe  that  his  cousin  and  son-in-law,  Ali, 
husband  of  Fatimah,  together  with  their  sons 
Husein  and  Hasan,  are  the  prophet's  true 
inheritors.  AH  was  assassinated  near  Nejef, 
which  city  is  sacred  to  his  memory,  and  his 
son  Husein  was  killed  at  Kerbela;  so  these 
two  cities  are  the  greatest  of  the  Shiah  shrines. 
The  Turks  belong  almost  without  exception 
to  the  Sunni  sect,  whereas  the  Persians  and  a 
large  percentage  of  the  Arabs  inhabiting  Meso- 
potamia are  Shiahs. 

The  country  around  Samarra  is  not  unlike 
in  character  the  southern  part  of  Arizona  and 
northern  Sonora.  There  are  the  same  barren 
hills  and  the  same  glaring  heat.  The  soil  is 
not  sand,  but  a  fine  dust  which  permeates 
everything,  even  the  steel  uniform-cases  which 
I  had  always  regarded  as  proof  against  all  con- 
ditions. The  parching  effect  was  so  great 
that  it  was  not  only  necessary  to  keep  all 
leather  objects  thoroughly  oiled  but  the  covers 
of  my  books  cracked  and  curled  up  until  I 
hit  upon  the  plan  of  greasing  them  well  also. 
In  the  alluvial  lowlands  trench-digging  was  a 
simple  affair,  but  along  the  hills  we  found  a 
pebbly  conglomerate  that  gave  much  trouble. 

Opinion  was  divided  as  to  whether  the  Turk 


36  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

would  attempt  to  advance  down  the  Tigris. 
Things  had  gone  badly  with  our  forces  in  Pal- 
estine at  the  first  battle  of  Gaza;  but  here  we 
had  an  exceedingly  strong  position,  and  the 
consensus  of  opinion  seemed  to  be  that  the 
enemy  would  think  twice  before  he  stormed  it. 
Their  base  was  at  Tekrit,  almost  thirty  miles 
away.  However,  about  ten  miles  distant  stood 
a  small  village  called  Daur,  which  the  Turks 
held  in  considerable  force.  Between  Daur 
and  Samarra  there  was  nothing  but  desert, 
with  gazelles  and  jackals  the  only  permanent 
inhabitants.  Into  this  no  man's  land  both 
sides  sent  patrols,  who  met  in  occasional  skir- 
mishes. For  reconnaissance  work  we  used 
light-armored  motor-cars,  known  throughout 
the  army  as  Lam  cars,  a  name  formed  by  the 
initial  letters  of  their  titles.  These  cars  were 
Rolls  -  Royces,  and  with  their  armor  -  plate 
weighed  between  three  and  three-quarters  and 
four  tons.  They  were  proof  against  the  ordinary 
bullet  but  not  against  the  armor-piercing. 
When  I  came  out  to  Mesopotamia  I  intended 
to  lay  my  plans  for  a  transfer  to  the  cavalry, 
but  after  I  had  seen  the  cars  at  work  I 
changed  about  and  asked  to  be  seconded  to 
that  branch  of  the  service. 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  37 

A  short  while  after  my  arrival  our  aeroplanes 
brought  in  word  that  the  Turks  were  massing 
at  Daur,  and  General  Cobbe  decided  that  when 
they  launched  forth  he  would  go  and  meet 
them.  Accordingly,  we  all  moved  out  one 
night,  expecting  to  give  "Abdul,"  as  the 
Tommies  called  him,  a  surprise.  Whether  it 
was  that  we  started  too  early  and  their  aero- 
planes saw  us,  or  whether  they  were  only 
making  a  feint,  we  never  found  out;  but  at  all 
events  the  enemy  fell  back,  and  save  for  some 
advance-guard  skirmishing  and  a  few  prison- 
ers, we  drew  a  blank.  We  were  not  prepared 
to  attack  the  Daur  position,  and  so  returned 
to  Samarra  to  await  developments. 

Meanwhile  I  busied  myself  searching  for  an 
Arab  servant.  Seven  or  eight  years  previous, 
when  with  my  father  in  Africa,  I  had  learned 
Swahili,  and  although  I  had  forgotten  a  great 
deal  of  it,  still  I  found  it  a  help  in  taking  up 
Arabic.  Most  of  the  officers  had  either  British 
or  Indian  servants;  in  the  former  case  they 
were  known  as  batmen,  and  in  the  latter  as 
bearers;  but  I  decided  to  follow  suit  with  the 
minority  and  get  an  Arab,  and  therefore  learn 
Arabic  instead  of  Hindustanee,  for  the  former 
would  be  of  vastly  more  general  use.  The  town 


38  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

commandant,  Captain  Grieve  of  the  Black 
Watch,  after  many  attempts  at  length  pro- 
duced a  native  who  seemed,  at  any  rate,  more 
promising  than  the  others  that  offered  them- 
selves. Yusuf  was  a  sturdy,  rather  surly-looking 
youth  of  about  eighteen.  Evidently  not  a  pure 
Arab,  he  claimed  various  admixtures  as  the 
fancy  took  him,  the  general  preference  being 
Kurd.  I  always  felt  that  there  was  almost  cer- 
tainly a  good  percentage  of  Turk.  His  father 
had  been  a  non-commissioned  officer  in  the 
Turkish  army,  and  at  first  I  was  loath  to  take 
him  along  on  advances  and  attacks,  for  he 
would  have  been  shown  little  mercy  had  he 
fallen  into  enemy  hands.  He  was,  however,  in- 
sistent on  asking  to  go  with  me,  and  I  never 
saw  him  show  any  concern  under  fire.  He 
spoke,  in  varying  degrees  of  fluency,  Kurdish, 
Persian,  and  Turkish,  and  was  of  great  use  to 
me  for  that  reason.  He  became  by  degrees  a 
very  faithful  and  trustworthy  follower,  his 
great  weakness  being  that  he  was  a  one-man's 
man,  and  although  he  would  do  anything  for 
me,  he  was  of  little  general  use  in  an  officers' 
mess. 

I  had  two  horses,  one  a  black  mare  that  I 
called  Soda,  which  means  black  in  Arabic,  and 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  39 

the  other  a  hard-headed  bay  gelding  that  was 
game  to  go  all  day,  totally  unaffected  by  shell- 
fire,  but  exceedingly  stubborn  about  choosing 
the  direction  in  which  he  went.  After  numer- 
ous changes  I  came  across  an  excellent  syce 
to  look  after  them.  He  was  a  wild,  unkempt 
figure,  with  a  long  black  beard — a  dervish  by 
profession,  and  certainly  gave  no  one  any 
reason  to  believe  that  he  was  more  than  half- 
witted. Indeed,  almost  all  dervishes  are  in 
a  greater  or  less  degree  insane;  it  is  probably 
due  to  that  that  they  have  become  dervishes, 
for  the  native  regards  the  insane  as  under 
the  protection  of  God.  Dervishes  go  around 
practically  naked,  usually  wearing  only  a  few 
skins  flung  over  the  shoulder,  and  carrying  a 
large  begging-bowl.  In  addition  they  carry  a 
long,  sharp,  iron  bodkin,  with  a  wooden  ball 
at  the  end,  having  very  much  the  appearance 
of  a  fool's  bauble.  They  lead  an  easy  life. 
When  they  take  a  fancy  to  a  house,  they  settle 
down  near  the  gate,  and  the  owner  has  to  sup- 
port them  as  long  as  the  whim  takes  them  to 
stay  there.  To  use  force  against  a  dervish 
would  be  looked  upon  as  an  exceedingly  un- 
propitious  affair  to  the  true  believer.  Then, 
too,  I  have  little  doubt  but  that  they  are 


40  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

capable  of  making  good  use  of  their  steel  bod- 
kins. Why  my  dervish  wished  to  give  up 
his  easy-going  profession  and  take  over  the 
charge  of  my  horses  I  never  fully  determined, 
but  it  must  have  been  because  he  really  loved 
horses  and  found  that  as  a  dervish  pure  and 
simple  he  had  very  little  to  do  with  them. 
When  he  arrived  he  was  dressed  in  a  very 
ancient  gunny-sack,  and  it  was  not  without 
much  regret  at  the  desecration  that  I  provided 
him  with  an  outfit  of  the  regulation  khaki. 

My  duties  took  me  on  long  rides  about 
the  country.  Here,  and  throughout  Meso- 
potamia, the  great  antiquity  of  this  "cradle 
of  the  world"  kept  ever  impressing  itself  upon 
one,  consciously  or  subconsciously.  Every- 
where Were  ruins;  occasionally  a  wall  still 
reared  itself  clear  of  the  all-enveloping  dust, 
but  generally  all  that  remained  were  great 
mounds,  where  the  desert  had  crept  in  and 
claimed  its  own,  covering  palace,  house,  and 
market,  temple,  synagogue,  mosque,  or  church 
with  its  everlasting  mantle.  Often  the  streets 
could  still  be  traced,  but  oftener  not.  The 
weight  of  ages  was  ever  present  as  one  rode 
among  the  ruins  of  these  once  busy,  prosper- 
ous cities,  now  long  dead  and  buried,  how  long 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  41 

no  one  knew,  for  frequently  their  very  names 
were  forgotten.  Babylon,  Ur  of  the  Chaldees, 
Istabulat,  Nineveh,  and  many  more  great  cities 
of  history  are  now  nothing  but  names  given  to 
desert  mounds. 

Close  by  Samarra  stands  a  strange  cork- 
screw tower,  known  by  the  natives  as  the  Mal- 
wiyah.  It  is  about  a  hundred  and  sixty  feet 
high,  built  of  brick,  with  a  path  of  varying 
width  winding  up  around  the  outside.  No 
one  knew  its  purpose,  and  estimates  of  its  an- 
tiquity varied  by  several  thousand  years.  One 
fairly  well-substantiated  story  told  that  it  had 
been  the  custom  to  kill  prisoners  by  hurling 
them  off  its  top.  We  found  it  exceedingly  use- 
ful as  an  observation-post.  In  the  same  man- 
ner we  used  Julian's  tomb,  a  great  mound  ris- 
ing up  in  the  desert  some  five  or  six  miles  up- 
stream of  the  town.  The  legend  is  that  when 
the  Roman  Emperor  died  of  his  wounds  his 
soldiers,  impressing  the  natives,  built  this  as  a 
mausoleum;  but  there  is  no  ground  whatever 
for  this  belief,  for  it  would  have  been  physically 
impossible  for  a  harassed  or  retreating  army 
to  have  performed  a  task  of  such  magnitude. 
The  natives  call  it  "The  Granary,"  and  claim 
that  that  was  its  original  use.  Before  the  war 


42  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  Germans  had  started  in  excavating,  and 
discovered  shafts  leading  deep  down,  and  on 
top  the  foundations  of  a  palace.  Around  its 
foot  may  be  traced  roadways  and  circular 
plots,  and  especially  when  seen  from  an  aero- 
plane it  looks  as  if  there  had  at  one  time  been 
an  elaborate  system  of  gardens. 

We  were  continually  getting  false  rumors 
about  the  movements  of  the  Turks.  We  had 
believed  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  them 
to  execute  a  flank  movement,  at  any  rate  in 
sufficient  strength  to  be  a  serious  menace,  for 
from  all  the  reports  we  could  get,  the  wells 
were  few  and  far  between.  Nevertheless,  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  excitement  and  some  con- 
cern when  one  afternoon  our  aeroplanes  came 
in  with  the  report  that  they  had  seen  a  body 
of  Turks  that  they  estimated  at  from  six 
to  eight  thousand  marching  round  our  right 
flank.  The  plane  was  sent  straight  back  with 
instructions  to  verify  most  carefully  the  state- 
ment, and  be  sure  that  it  was  really  men  they 
had  seen.  They  returned  at  dark  with  no  alter- 
ation of  their  original  report.  As  can  well  be 
imagined,  that  night  was  a  crowded  one  for  us, 
and  the  feeling  ran  high  when  next  morning  the 
enemy  turned  out  to  be  several  enormous  herds 
of  sheep. 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  43 

As  part  consequence  of  this  we  were  ordered 
to  make  a  thorough  water  reconnaissance,  with 
a  view  of  ascertaining  how  large  a  force  could 
be  watered  on  a  march  around  our  flank.  I 
went  off  in  an  armored  car  with  Captain  Mar- 
shall of  the  Intelligence  Service.  Marshall  had 
spent  many  years  in  Mesopotamia  shipping 
liquorice  to  the  American  Tobacco  Company, 
and  he  was  known  and  trusted  by  the  Arabs  all 
along  the  Tigris  from  Kurna  to  Mosul.  He 
spoke  the  language  most  fluently,  but  with  an 
accent  that  left  no  doubt  of  his  Caledonian 
home.  We  had  with  us  a  couple  of  old  sheiks, 
and  it  was  their  first  ride  in  an  automobile.  It 
was  easy  to  see  that  one  of  them  was  having 
difficulty  in  maintaining  his  dignity,  but  I  was 
not  quite  sure  of  the  reason  until  we  stopped 
a  moment  and  he  fairly  flew  out  of  the  car. 
It  didn't  seem  possible  that  a  man  able  to  ride 
ninety  miles  at  a  stretch  on  a  camel,  could  be 
made  ill  by  the  motion  of  an  automobile. 
However,  such  was  the  case,  and  we  had  great 
difficulty  in  getting  him  back  into  the  car. 
We  discovered  far  more  wells  than  we  had 
been  led  to  believe  existed,  but  not  enough  to 
make  a  flank  attack  a  very  serious  menace. 

The  mirage  played  all  sorts  of  tricks,  and 
the  balloon  observers  grew  to  be  very  cautious 


44  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

in  their  assertions.  In  the  early  days  of  the 
campaign,  at  the  battle  of  Shaiba  Bund,  a 
friendly  mirage  saved  the  British  forces  from 
what  would  have  proved  a  very  serious  defeat. 
Suleiman  Askari  was  commanding  the  Turkish 
forces,  and  things  were  faring  badly  with  the 
British,  when  of  a  sudden  to  their  amazement 
they  found  that  the  Turks  were  in  full  retreat. 
Their  commanders  had  caught  sight  of  the 
mirage  of  what  was  merely  an  ambulance  and 
supply  train,  but  it  was  so  magnified  that  they 
believed  it  to  be  a  very  large  body  of  reinforce- 
ments. The  report  ran  that  when  Suleiman 
was  told  of  his  mistake,  his  chagrin  was  so 
great  that  he  committed  suicide. 

It  was  at  length  decided  to  advance  on  the 
Turkish  forces  at  Daur.  General  Brooking 
had  just  made  a  most  successful  attack  on 
the  Euphrates  front,  capturing  the  town  of 
Ramadie,  with  almost  five  thousand  prisoners. 
It  was  believed  to  be  the  intention  of  the  army 
commander  to  try  to  relieve  the  pressure 
against'  General  Allenby's  forces  in  Palestine 
by  attacking  the  enemy  on  all  three  of  their 
Mesopotamian  fronts.  Accordingly,  we  were 
ordered  to  march  out  after  sunset  one  night, 
prepared  to  attack  the  enemy  position  at  day- 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  45 

break.  During  a  short  halt  by  the  last  rays  of 
the  setting  sun  I  caught  sight  of  a  number  of 
Mohammedan  soldiers  prostrating  themselves 
toward  Mecca  in  their  evening  prayers,  while 
their  Christian  or  pagan  comrades  looked  stol- 
idly on.  It  was  late  October,  and  although  the 
days  were  still  very  hot  and  oppressive,  the 
nights  were  almost  bitterly  cold.  A  night- 
march  is  always  a  disagreeable  business.  The 
head  of  the  column  checks  and  halts,  and  those 
in  the  rear  have  no  idea  whether  it  is  an  in- 
voluntary stop  for  a  few  minutes,  or  whether 
they  are  to  halt  for  an  hour  or  more,  owing  to 
some  complication  of  orders.  So  we  stood 
shivering,  and  longed  for  a  smoke,  but  of  course 
that  was  strictly  forbidden,  for  the  cigarettes 
of  an  army  would  form  a  very  good  indication 
of  its  whereabouts  on  a  dark  night.  All  night 
we  marched  and  halted,  and  started  on  again; 
the  dust  choked  us,  and  the  hours  seemed  in- 
terminable, until  at  last  at  two  in  the  morning 
word  was  passed  along  that  we  could  have  an 
hour's  sleep.  The  greater  part  of  the  year  in 
Mesopotamia  the  regulation  army  dress  con- 
sisted of  a  tunic  and  "shorts."  These  are 
long  trousers  cut  off  just  above  the  knee,  and  the 
wearer  may  either  use  wrap  puttees,  or  leather 


46  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

leggings,  or  golf  stockings.  They  are  a  great 
help  in  the  heat,  as  may  easily  be  understood, 
and  they  allow,  of  course,  much  freer  knee 
action,  particularly  when  your  clothes  are  wet. 
The  reverse  side  of  the  medal  reads  that  when 
you  try  to  sleep  without  a  blanket  on  a  cold 
night,  you  find  that  your  knees  are  uncom- 
fortably exposed.  Still  we  were,  most  of  us, 
so  drunk  with  sleep  that  it  would  have  taken 
more  than  that  to  keep  us  awake.  At  three 
we  resumed  our  march,  and  attacked  just  at 
dawn.  The  enemy  had  abandoned  the  first- 
line  positions,  and  we  met  with  but  little  re- 
sistance in  the  second.  Our  cavalry,  which 
was  concentrated  at  several  points  in  nullahs 
(dry  river-beds),  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the 
hostile  aircraft.  The  Turk  had  evidently  de- 
termined to  fall  back  to  Tekrit  without  putting 
up  a  serious  defense.  They  certainly  could 
have  given  us  a  much  worse  time  than  they 
did,  for  they  had  dug  in  well  and  scientifically. 
Among  the  prisoners  we  took  there  were  some 
that  proved  to  be  very  worth  while.  These 
Turkish  officers  were,  as  a  whole  a  good  lot 
— well  dressed  and  well  educated.  Many 
spoke  French.  There  is  an  excellent  gunnery 
school  at  Constantinople,  and  one  of  the  officers 


47 

we  captured  had  been  a  senior  instructor  there 
for  many  years.  We  had  with  us  among  our 
intelligence  officers  a  Captain  Bettelheim,  born 
in  Constantinople  of  Belgian  parentage.  He 
had  served  with  the  Turks  against  the  Italians 
and  with  the  British  against  the  Boers.  This 
gunnery  officer  turned  out  to  be  an  old  com- 
rade of  his  in  the  Italian  War.  Many  of  the 
officers  we  got  knew  him,  for  he  had  been 
chief  of  police  in  Constantinople.  Apparently 
none  of  them  bore  him  the  slightest  ill-will 
when  they  found  him  serving  against  them. 

Among  the  supplies  we  captured  at  Daur 
were  a  lot  of  our  own  rifles  and  ammunition 
that  the  Arabs  had  stolen  and  sold  to  the  Turks. 
It  was  impossible  to  entirely  stop  this,  guard 
our  dumps  as  best  we  could.  On  dark  nights 
they  would  creep  right  into  camp,  and  it  was 
never  safe  to  have  the  hospital  barges  tie  up 
to  the  banks  for  the  night  on  their  way  down 
the  river.  On  many  occasions  the  Arabs 
crawled  aboard  and  finished  off  the  wounded. 
There  was  only  one  thing  to  be  said  for  the 
Arab,  and  that  was  that  he  played  no  favorite, 
but  attacked,  as  a  rule,  whichever  side  came 
handier.  We  were  told,  and  I  believe  it  to 
be  true,  that  during  the  fighting  at  Sunnaiyat 


48  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  Turks  sent  over  to  know  if  we  would  agree 
to  a  three  days'  truce,  during  which  time  we 
should  join  forces  against  the  Arabs,  who  were 
watching  on  the  flank  to  pick  off  stragglers  or 
ration  convoys. 

That  night  we  bivouacked  at  Daur,  and  were 
unmolested  except  for  the  enemy  aircraft  that 
came  over  and  "laid  eggs."  Next  morning  we 
advanced  on  Tekrit.  Our  orders  were  to  make 
a  feint,  and  if  we  found  that  the  Turk  meant 
to  stay  and  fight  it  out  seriously,  we  were  to 
fall  back.  Some  gazelles  got  into  the  no  man's 
land  between  us  and  the  Turk,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  firing  ran  gracefully  up  the  line, 
stopping  every  now  and  then  to  stare  about 
in  amazement.  Later  on  in  the  Argonne  for- 
est in  France  we  had  the  same  thing  happen 
with  some  wild  boars.  The  enemy  seemed  in 
no  way  inclined  to  evacuate  Tekrit,  so  in  ac- 
cordance with  instructions  we  returned  to  our 
previous  night's  encampment  at  Daur.  On 
the  way  back  we  passed  an  old  "arabana,"  a 
Turkish  coupe,  standing  abandoned  in  the 
desert,  with  a  couple  of  dead  horses  by  it.  It 
may  have  been  used  by  some  Turkish  general 
in  the  retreat  of  two  days  before.  It  was  the 
sort  of  coupe  one  associates  entirely  with  well- 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  49 

kept  parks  and  crowded  city  streets,  and  the 
incongruity  of  its  lonely  isolation  amid  the 
sand-dunes  caused  an  amused  ripple  of  com- 
ment. 

Our  instructions  were  to  march  back  to 
Samarra  early  next  morning,  but  shortly  be- 
fore midnight  orders  came  through  from  Gen- 
eral Maude  for  us  to  advance  again  upon 
Tekrit  and  take  it.  Next  day  we  halted  and 
took  stock  in  view  of  the  new  orders.  The 
cavalry  again  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the 
Turkish  aircraft.  I  went  to  corps  headquarters 
in  the  afternoon,  and  a  crowd  of  "red  tabs," 
as  the  staff-officers  were  called,  were  seated 
around  a  little  table  having  the  inevitable  tea. 
A  number  of  the  generals  had  come  in  to  dis- 
cuss the  plan  of  attack  for  the  following  day. 
Suddenly  a  Turk  aeroplane  made  its  appear- 
ance, flying  quite  low,  and  dropping  bombs 
at  regular  intervals.  It  dropped  two,  and 
then  a  third  on  a  little  hill  in  a  straight  line 
from  the  staff  conclave.  It  looked  as  if  the 
next  would  be  a  direct  hit,  and  the  staff  did 
the  only  wise  thing,  and  took  cover  as  flat 
on  the  ground  as  nature  would  allow;  but  the 
Hun's  spacing  was  bad,  and  the  next  bomb 
fell  some  little  way  beyond.  I  remember 


50  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

our  glee  at  what  we  regarded  as  a  capital 
joke  on  the  staff.  The  line-officer's  humor 
becomes  a  trifle  robust  where  the  "gilded 
staff"  is  concerned,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  most  staff-officers  have  seen  active  and 
distinguished  service  in  the  line. 

Our  anti-aircraft  guns — "Archies"  we  called 
them — were  mounted  on  trucks,  and  on  account 
of  their  weight  had  some  difficulty  getting  up. 
I  shall  not  soon  forget  our  delight  when  they 
lumbered  into  view,  for  although  I  never  hap- 
pened personally  to  see  an  aeroplane  brought 
down  by  an  "Archie,"  there  was  no  doubt 
about  it  but  that  they  did  not  bomb  us  with 
the  same  equanimity  when  our  anti-aircrafts 
were  at  hand. 

That  night  we  marched  out  on  Tekrit,  and 
as  dawn  was  breaking  were  ready  to  attack. 
As  the  mist  cleared,  an  alarming  but  ludicrous 
sight  met  our  eyes.  On  the  extreme  right 
some  caterpillar  tractors  hauling  our  "heavies" 
were  advancing  straight  on  Tekrit,  as  if  they 
had  taken  themselves  for  tanks.  They  were 
not'  long  in  discovering  their  mistake,  and 
amid  a  mixed  salvo  they  clumsily  turned  and 
made  off  at  their  best  pace,  which  was  not 
more  than  three  miles  an  hour.  Luckily,  they 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  51 

soon  got  under   some   excellent   defilade,  but 
not  until  they  had  suffered  heavily. 

Our  artillery  did  some  good  work,  but  while 
we  were  waiting  to  attack  we  suffered  rather 
heavily.  We  had  to  advance  over  a  wide 
stretch  of  open  country  to  reach  the  Turkish 
first  lines.  By  nightfall  the  second  line  of 
trenches  was  practically  all  in  our  hands. 
Meanwhile  the  cavalry  had  circled  way  around 
the  flank  up-stream  of  Tekrit  to  cut  the  enemy 
off  if  he  attempted  to  retreat.  The  town  is  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  Tigris,  and  we  had  a  small 
force  that  had  come  up  from  Samarra  on  the 
left  bank,  for  we  had  no  means  of  ferrying 
troops  across.  Our  casualties  during  the  day 
had  amounted  to  about  two  thousand.  The 
Seaforths  had  suffered  heavily,  but  no  more 
so  than  some  of  the  native  regiments.  In 
Mesopotamia  there  were  many  changes  in  the 
standing  of  the  Indian  battalions.  The  Ma- 
harattas,  for  instance,  had  never  previously 
been  regarded  as  anything  at  all  unusual,  but 
they  have  now  a  very  distinguished  record  to 
take  pride  in.  The  general  feeling  was  that 
the  Gurkhas  did  not  quite  live  up  to  their 
reputation.  But  the  Indian  troops  as  a  whole 
did  so  exceedingly  well  that  there  is  little 


52  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

purpose  in  making  comparisons  amongst  them. 
At  this  time,  so  I  was  informed,  the  Expedi- 
tionary Force,  counting  all  branches,  totalled 
about  a  million,  and  a  very  large  percentage 
of  this  came  from  India.  We  drew  our  sup- 
plies from  India  and  Australia,  and  it  is  inter- 
esting to  note  that  we  preferred  the  Australian 
canned  beef  and  mutton  (bully  beef  and  bully 
mutton,  as  it  was  called)  to  the  American. 

At  dusk  the  fighting  died  down,  and  we 
were  told  to  hold  on  and  go  over  at  daybreak. 
As  I  was  making  my  way  back  to  headquarters 
a  general  pounced  upon  me  and  told  me  to  get 
quickly  into  a  car  and  go  as  rapidly  as 
possible  to  Daur  to  bring  up  a  motor  ration- 
convoy  with  fodder  for  the  cavalry  horses 
and  food  for  the  riders.  A  Ford  car  happened 
to  pass  by,  and  he  stopped  it  and  shoved  me 
in,  with  some  last  hurried  injunction.  It  was 
quite  fifteen  miles  back,  and  the  country  was 
so  cut  up  by  nullahs  or  ravines  that  in  most 
places  it  was  inadvisable  to  leave  the  road, 
which  was,  of  course,  jammed  with  a  double 
stream  of  transport  of  every  description. 
When  we  were  three  or  four  miles  from  Daur 
a  tire  blew  out.  The  driver  had  used  his  last 
spare,  so  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  keep 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  53 

going  on  the  rim.  The  car  was  of  the  deliv- 
ery-wagon type — "pill-boxes"  were  what  they 
were  known  as — and  while  we  were  stopped 
taking  stock  I  happened  to  catch  sight  of  a 
good-sized  bedding-roll  behind.  "Some  one's 
out  of  luck,"  said  I  to  the  driver;  "whose  roll 
is  it?"  "The  corps  commander's,  sir,"  was 
his  reply.  After  exhausting  my  limited  vo- 
cabulary, I  realized  that  it  was  far  too  late  to 
stop  another  motor  and  send  this  one  back,  so 
I  just  kept  going.  Across  the  bed  of  one  more 
ravine,  the  sand  up  to  the  hubs,  and  we  were 
in  the  Daur  camp.  I  managed  to  rank  some 
one  out  of  a  spare  tire  and  started  back  again. 
My  driver  proved  unable  to  drive  at  night, 
at  all  events  at  a  pace  that  would  put  us  any- 
where before  dawn,  so  I  was  forced  to  take 
the  wheel.  By  the  tune  I  had  the  convoy 
properly  located  I  was  rather  despondent  of 
the  corps  commander's  temper,  even  should  I 
eventually  reach  him  that  night,  which  seemed 
a  remote  chance,  for  the  best  any  one  could  do 
was  give  me  the  rough  location  on  a  map. 
Still,  taking  my  luminous  compass,  I  set  out  to 
steer  a  cross-country  course.  I  ran  into  five 
or  six  small  groups  of  ambulances  filled  with 
wounded,  trying  to  find  their  way  to  Daur, 


54  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

and  completely  lost.  Most  had  given  up — 
some  were  unknowingly  headed  back  for 
Tekrit.  I  could  do  no  more  than  give  them 
the  right  direction,  which  I  knew  they  had  no 
chance  of  holding.  Of  course  I  could  have  no 
headlights,  and  the  ditches  were  many,  but 
in  some  miraculous  way,  more  through  good 
luck  than  good  management,  I  did  find  corps 
headquarters,  and  what  was  better  still,  the 
general's  reprimand  took  the  form  of  bread  and 
ham  and  a  stiff  peg  of  whiskey — the  first  food 
I  had  had  since  before  daylight. 

During  the  night  the  Turks  evacuated  the 
town.  Their  forces  were  certainly  mobile. 
They  could  cover  the  most  surprising  distances, 
and  live  on  almost  nothing.  We  marched  in 
and  occupied.  White  flags  were  flying  from 
all  the  houses,  which  were  not  nearly  so  much 
damaged  from  the  bombardment  as  one  would 
have  supposed.  This  was  invariably  the  case; 
indeed,  it  is  surprising  to  see  how  much  shelling 
a  town  can  undergo  without  noticeable  effect. 
It  takes  a  long  time  to  level  a  town  in  the  way 
it  has  been  done  in  northern  France.  In  this 
region  the  banks  of  the  river  average  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  height,  and  Tekrit  is 
built  at  the  junction  of  two  ravines.  No  two 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  55 

streets  are  on  the  same  level;  sometimes  the 
roofs  of  the  houses  on  a  lower  level  serve  as 
the  streets  for  the  houses  above.  Many  of  the 
booths  in  the  bazaar  were  open  and  transact- 
ing business  when  we  arrived,  an  excellent 
proof  of  how  firmly  the  Arabs  believed  in  Brit- 
ish fair  dealing.  Our  men  bought  cigarettes, 
matches,  and  vegetables.  Yusuf  had  lived 
here  three  or  four  years,  so  I  despatched  him 
to  get  chickens  and  eggs  for  the  mess.  I  ran 
into  Marshall,  who  was  on  his  way  to  dine 
with  the  mayor,  who  had  turned  out  to  be  an 
old  friend  of  his.  He  asked  me  to  join  him, 
and  we  climbed  up  to  a  very  comfortable 
house,  built  around  a  large  courtyard.  It  was 
the  best  meal  we  had  either  of  us  had  in  days 
— great  pilaus  of  rice,  excellent  chicken,  and 
fresh  unleavened  bread.  This  bread  looks  like 
a  very  large  and  thin  griddle-cake.  The  Arab 
uses  it  as  a  plate.  Eating  with  your  hands  is 
at  first  rather  difficult.  Before  falling  to,  a  ewer 
is  brought  around  to  you,  and  you  are  sup- 
plied with  soap — a  servant  pours  water  from 
the  ewer  over  your  hands,  and  then  gives  you 
a  towel.  After  eating,  the  same  process  is 
gone  through  with.  There  are  certain  formali- 
ties that  must  be  regarded — one  of  them  being 


56  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

that  you  must  not  eat  or  drink  with  your  left 
hand. 

In  Tekrit  we  did  not  find  as  much  in  the  way 
of  supplies  and  ammunition  as  we  had  hoped. 
The  Turk  had  destroyed  the  greater  part  of 
his  store.  We  did  find  great  quantities  of 
wood,  and  in  that  barren,  treeless  country  it 
was  worth  a  lot.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Tekrit  are  raftsmen  by  profession.  Their 
rafts  have  been  made  in  the  same  manner 
since  before  the  days  of  Xerxes  and  Darius. 
Inflated  goatskins  are  used  as  a  basis  for  a 
platform  of  poles,  cut  in  the  up-stream  forests. 
On  these,  starting  from  Diarbekr  or  Mosul, 
they  float  down  all  their  goods.  When  they 
reach  Tekrit  they  leave  the  poles  there,  and 
start  up-stream  on  foot,  carrying  their  deflated 
goatskins.  The  Turks  used  this  method  a 
great  deal  bringing  down  their  supplies.  In 
pre-war  days  the  rafts,  keleks  as  they  are 
called,  would  often  come  straight  through  to 
Baghdad,  but  many  were  always  broken  up 
at  Tekrit,  for  there  is  a  desert  route  running 
across  to  Hit  on  the  Euphrates,  and  the  sup- 
plies from  up-river  were  taken  across  this  in 
camel  caravans. 

The  aerodrome  lay  six  or  seven  miles  above 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  57 

the  town,  and  I  was  anxious  to  see  it  and  the 
comfortable  billets  the  Germans  had  built 
themselves.  I  found  a  friend  whose  duties 
required  motor  transportation,  and  we  set  off 
in  his  car.  A  dust-storm  was  raging,  and  we 
had  some  difficulty  in  finding  our  way  through 
the  network  of  trenches.  Once  outside,  the 
storm  became  worse,  and  we  could  only  see  a 
few  yards  in  front  of  us.  We  got  completely 
lost,  and  after  nearly  running  over  the  edge 
of  the  bluff,  gave  up  the  attempt,  and  slowly 
worked  our  way  back. 

When  we  started  off  on  the  advance  I  was 
reading  Xenophon's  Anabasis.  On  the  day 
when  we  were  ordered  to  march  on  Tekrit  a 
captain  of  the  Royal  Flying  Corps,  an  ex- 
master  at  Eton,  was  in  the  mess,  and  when  I 
told  hmi  that  I  was  nearly  out  of  reading  mat- 
ter, he  said  that  next  time  he  came  over  he 
would  drop  me  Plutarch's  Lives.  I  asked  him 
to  drop  it  at  corps  headquarters,  and  that  a 
friend  of  mine  there  would  see  that  I  got  it. 
The  next  day  in  the  heat  of  the  fighting  a 
plane  came  over  low,  signalling  that  it  was 
dropping  a  message.  As  the  streamer  fell 
close  by,  there  was  a  rush  to  pick  it  up  and 
learn  how  the  attack  was  progressing.  Fortu- 


58  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

nately,  I  was  far  away  when  the  packet  was 
opened  and  found  to  contain  the  book  that 
the  pilot  had  promised  to  drop  for  me. 

After  we  had  been  occupying  the  town  for  a 
few  days,  orders  came  through  to  prepare  to 
fall  back  on  Samarra.  The  line  of  communi- 
cation was  so  long  that  it  was  impossible  to 
maintain  us,  except  at  too  great  a  cost  to  the 
transportation  facilities  possessed  by  the  Ex- 
peditionary Forces.  Eight  or  ten  months  later, 
when  we  had  more  rails  in  hand,  a  line  was 
laid  to  Tekrit,  which  had  been  abandoned  by 
the  Turks  under  the  threat  of  our  advance 
to  Kirkuk,  in  the  Persian  hills.  It  was  diffi- 
cult to  explain  to  the  men,  particularly  to  the 
Indians,  the  necessity  for  falling  back.  All 
they  could  understand  was  that  we  had  taken 
the  town  at  no  small  cost,  and  now  we  were 
about  to  give  it  up. 

For  several  days  I  was  busy  helping  to  pre- 
pare rafts  to  take  down  the  timber  and  such 
other  captured  supplies  as  were  worth  remov- 
ing. The  river  was  low,  leaving  a  broad  stretch 
of  beach  below  the  town,  and  to  this  we  brought 
down  the  poles.  Several  camels  had  died  near 
the  water,  probably  from  the  results  of  our 
shelling,  and  the  hot  weather  soon  made  them 


THE  TIGRIS  FRONT  59 

very  unpleasant  companions.  The  first  day 
was  bad  enough;  the  second  was  worse.  The 
natives  were  not  in  the  least  affected.  They 
brought  their  washing  and  worked  among  them 
— they  came  down  and  drew  their  drinking- 
water  from  the  river,  either  beside  the  camels 
or  down-stream  of  them,  with  complete  indiffer- 
ence. It  is  true  this  water  percolates  drop  by 
drop  through  large,  porous  clay  pots  before  it 
is  drunk,  but  even  so,  it  would  have  seemed 
that  they  would  have  preferred  its  coming  from 
up-stream  of  the  derelict  "ships  of  the  desert." 
On  the  third  day,  to  their  mild  surprise,  we 
managed  with  infinite  difficulty  to  tow  the 
camels  out  through  the  shallow  water  into  the 
main  stream. 

We  finally  got  our  rafts  built,  over  eighty  in 
number,  and  arranged  for  enough  Arab  pilots 
to  take  care  of  half  of  them.  On  the  remain- 
der we  put  Indian  sepoys.  They  made  quite 
a  fleet  when  we  finally  got  them  all  started 
down-stream.  Two  were  broken  up  in  the 
rapids  near  Daur,  the  rest  reached  Samarra  in 
safety  on  the  second  day. 

We  had  a  pleasant  camp  on  the  bluffs  be- 
low Tekrit — high  enough  above  the  plain  to 
be  free  of  the  ordinary  dust-storms,  and  the 


60  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

prospect  of  returning  to  Samarra  was  scarcely 
more  pleasant  to  us  than  to  the  men.  Five 
days  after  we  had  taken  the  town,  we  turned 
our  backs  on  it  and  marched  slowly  back  to 
rail-head. 


Ill 

Patrolling  the  Ruins  of  Babylon 


Ill 

PATROLLING  THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON 

We  returned  to  find  Samarra  buried  in  dust 
and  more  desolate  than  ever.  A  few  days 
later  came  the  first  rain-storm.  After  a  night's 
downpour  the  air  was  radiantly  clear,  and  it 
was  joy  to  ride  off  on  the  rounds,  no  longer 
like  Zeus,  enveloped  in  a  cloud. 

It  was  a  relief  to  see  the  heat-stroke  camps 
broken  up.  During  the  summer  months  our 
ranks  were  fearfully  thinned  through  the  sun. 
Although  it  was  the  British  troops  that  suffered 
most,  the  Indians  were  by  no  means  immune. 
Before  the  camps  were  properly  organized  the 
percentage  of  mortality  was  exceedingly  large, 
for  the  only  effective  treatment  necessitates 
the  use  of  much  ice.  The  patient  runs  a  tem- 
perature which  it  was  impossible  to  control 
until  the  ice-making  machines  were  installed. 
The  camps  were  situated  in  the  coolest  and 
most  comfortable  places,  but  in  spite  of  every- 
thing, death  was  a  frequent  result,  and  recover- 
ies were  apt  to  be  only  partial.  Men  who  had 

63 


64  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

had  a  bad  stroke  were  rarely  of  any  further  use 
in  the  country. 

Another  sickness  of  the  hot  season  which 
now  began  to  claim  less  victims  was  sand- 
fly  fever.  This  fever,  which,  as  its  name  indi- 
cates, was  contracted  from  the  bites  of  sand- 
flies,  varied  widely  in  virulence.  Sometimes 
it  was  so  severe  that  the  victim  had  to  be 
evacuated  to  India;  as  a  rule  he  went  no 
farther  than  a  base  hospital  at  Baghdad  or 
Amara. 

One  of  the  things  about  which  the  Tommy 
felt  most  keenly  in  the  Mesopotamian  cam- 
paign was  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  a 
"Cushy  Blighty."  To  take  you  to  "Blighty" 
a  wound  must  mean  permanent  disablement, 
otherwise  you  either  convalesced  in  the  coun- 
try or,  at  best,  were  sent  to  India.  In  the 
same  manner  there  were  no  short  leaves,  for 
there  was  nowhere  to  go.  At  the  most  rapid 
rate  of  travelling  it  took  two  weeks  to  get  to 
India,  and  once  there,  although  the  people 
did  everything  possible  in  the  way  of  entertain- 
ing, the  enlisted  man  found  little  to  make  him 
less  homesick  than  he  had  been  in  Mesopotamia. 
Transportation  was  so  difficult  and  the  trip  so 
long  that  only  under  very  exceptional  circum- 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON        65 

stances  was  leave  to  England  given.  One 
spring  it  was  announced  that  officers  wishing 
to  get  either  married  or  divorced  could  apply 
for  leave  with  good  hopes  of  success.  Many 
applied,  but  a  number  returned  without  having 
fulfilled  either  condition,  so  that  the  following 
year  no  leaves  were  given  upon  those  grounds. 
The  army  commander  put  all  divorce  cases 
into  the  hands  of  an  officer  whose  civil  occupa- 
tion had  been  the  law,  and  who  arranged  them 
without  the  necessity  of  granting  home  leave. 

A  week  after  our  return  to  Samarra  a  rumor 
started  that  General  Maude  was  down  with 
cholera.  For  some  time  past  there  had  been  spo- 
radic cases,  though  not  enough  to  be  counted 
an  epidemic.  The  sepoys  had  suffered  chiefly, 
but  not  exclusively,  for  the  British  ranks  also 
supplied  a  quota  of  victims.  An  officer  on  the 
staff  of  the  military  governor  of  Baghdad  had 
recently  died.  We  heard  that  the  army  com- 
mander had  the  virulent  form,  and  knew  there 
could  be  no  chance  of  his  recovery.  The  an- 
nouncement of  his  death  was  a  heavy  blow  to 
all,  and  many  were  the  gloomy  forebodings. 
The  whole  army  had  implicit  confidence  in  their 
leader,  and  deeply  mourned  his  loss.  The 
usual  rumors  of  foul  play  and  poison  went  the 


66  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

rounds,  but  I  soon  after  heard  Colonel  Wilcox — 
in  pre-war  days  an  able  and  renowned  prac- 
titioner of  Harley  Street — say  that  it  was  an 
undoubted  case  of  cholera.  The  colonel  had  at- 
tended General  Maude  throughout  the  illness. 
The  general  had  never  taken  the  cholera  pro- 
phylactic, although  Colonel  Wilcox  had  on 
many  occasions  urged  him  to  do  so,  the  last 
time  being  only  a  few  days  before  the  disease 
developed. 

General  Marshall,  who  had  commanded 
General  Maude's  old  division,  the  Thirteenth, 
took  over.  The  Seventeenth  lost  General 
Gillman,  who  thereupon  became  chief  of  staff. 
This  was  a  great  loss  to  his  division,  for  he  was 
the  idol  of  the  men,  but  the  interest  of  the 
Expeditionary  Force  was  naturally  and  justly 
given  precedence. 

In  due  course  my  transfer  to  the  Motor 
Machine-Gun  Corps  came  through  approved, 
and  I  was  assigned  to  the  Fourteenth  battery 
of  light-armored  motor-cars,  commanded  by 
Captain  Nigel  Somerset,  whose  grandfather, 
Lord  Raglan,  had  died,  nursed  by  Florence 
Nightingale,  while  in  command  of  the  British 
forces  in  the  Crimean  War.  Somerset  himself 
was  in  the  infantry  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war 


Towing  an  armored  car  across  a  river 


Reconnaissance 


•v 


!      -* 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON         67 

and  had  been  twice  wounded  in  France.  He 
was  an  excellent  leader,  possessing  as  he  did 
dash,  judgment,  and  personal  magnetism.  A 
battery  was  composed  of  eight  armored  cars, 
subdivided  into  four  sections.  There  was  a 
continually  varying  number  of  tenders  and 
workshop  lorries.  The  fighting  cars  were  Rolls- 
Royces,  the  others  Napiers  and  Fords. 

At  that  time  there  were  only  four  batteries 
in  the  country.  We  were  army  troops — that 
is  to  say,  we  were  not  attached  to  any  individual 
brigade,  or  division,  or  corps,  but  were  tem- 
porarily assigned  first  here  and  then  there,  as 
the  need  arose. 

In  attacks  we  worked  in  co-operation  with 
the  cavalry.  Although  on  occasions  they  tried 
to  use  us  as  tanks,  it  was  not  successful,  for 
our  armor-plate  was  too  light.  We  were  also 
employed  in  raiding,  and  in  quelling  Arab  up- 
risings. This  latter  use  threw  us  into  close 
touch  with  the  political  officers.  These  were 
a  most  interesting  lot  of  men.  They  were  re- 
cruited in  part  from  the  army,  but  largely  from 
civil  life.  They  took  over  the  civil  adminis- 
tration; of  the  conquered  territory  and  judici- 
ously upheld  native  justice.  Many  remarkable 
characters  were  numbered  among  them — men 


68  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

who  had  devoted  a  lifetime  to  the  study  of  the 
intricacies  of  Oriental  diplomacy.  They  were 
distinguished  by  the  white  tabs  on  the  collars 
of  their  regulation  uniforms;  but  white  was  by 
no  means  invariably  the  sign  of  peace,  for  many 
of  the  political  officers  were  killed,  and  more 
than  once  in  isolated  towns  in  unsettled  dis- 
tricts they  sustained  sieges  that  lasted  for 
several  days.  We  often  took  a  political  officer 
out  with  us  on  a  raid  or  reconnaissance,  find- 
ing his  knowledge  of  the  language  and  customs 
of  great  assistance.  Sir  Percy  Cox  was  at  the 
head,  with  the  title  "Chief  Political  Officer" 
and  the  rank  of  general.  His  career  in  the 
Persian  Gulf  has  been  as  distinguished  as  it  is 
long,  and  his  handling  of  the  very  delicate  situa- 
tions arising  in  Mesopotamia  has  called  forth 
the  unstinted  praise  of  soldier  and  civilian  alike. 
Ably  assisting  him,  and  head  of  the  Arab 
bureau,  was  Miss  Gertrude  Bell,  the  only 
woman,  other  than  the  nursing  sisters,  officially 
connected  with  the  Mesopotamian  Expedition- 
ary Forces.  Miss  Bell  speaks  Arabic  fluently 
and  correctly.  She  first  became  interested  in 
the  East  when  visiting  her  uncle  at  Teheran, 
where  he  was  British  minister.  She  has  made 
noteworthy  expeditions  in  Syria  and  Mesopo- 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON         69 

tamia,  and  has  written  a  number  of  admirable 
books,  among  which  are  Armurath  to  Armurath 
and  The  Desert  and  the  Sown.  The  undeniable 
position  which  she  holds  must  appear  doubly 
remarkable  when  the  Mohammedan  official  at- 
titude toward  women  is  borne  in  mind.  Miss 
Bell  has  worked  steadily  and  without  a  leave 
in  this  trying  climate,  and  her  tact  and  judg- 
ment have  contributed  to  the  British  success 
to  a  degree  that  can  scarcely  be  overestimated. 

The  headquarters  of  the  various  batteries 
were  in  Baghdad.  There  we  had  our  perma- 
nent billets,  and  stores.  We  would  often  be 
ordered  out  in  sections  to  be  away  varying 
lengths  of  time,  though  rarely  more  than  a 
couple  of  months.  The  workshops'  officer 
stayed  in  permanent  charge  and  had  the  diffi- 
cult task  of  keeping  all  the  cars  in  repair.  The 
supply  of  spare  parts  was  so  uncertain  that 
much  skill  and  ingenuity  were  called  for,  and 
possessed  to  a  full  degree  by  Lieutenant  Lin- 
nell  of  the  Fourteenth. 

A  few  days  after  I  joined  I  set  off  with  Somer- 
set and  one  of  the  battery  officers,  Lieutenant 
Smith,  formerly  of  the  Black  Watch.  We  were 
'ordered  to  do  some  patrolling  near  the  ruins  of 
[Babylon.  Kerbela  and  Nejef,  in  the  quality 


70  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

of  great  Shiah  shrines,  had  never  been  particu- 
larly friendly  to  the  Turks,  who  were  Sunnis — 
but  the  desert  tribes  are  almost  invariably 
Sunnis,  and  this  coupled  with  their  natural 
instinct  for  raiding  and  plundering  made  them 
eager  to  take  advantage  of  any  interregnum 
of  authority.  We  organized  a  sort  of  native 
mounted  police,  but  they  were  more  picturesque 
than  effective.  They  were  armed  with  weap- 
ons of  varying  age  and  origin — not  one  was 
more  recent  than  the  middle  of  the  last  century. 
Now  the  Budus,  the  wild  desert  folk,  were  fre- 
quently equipped  with  rifles  they  had  stolen 
from  us,  so  in  a  contest  the  odds  were  anything 
but  even. 

We  took  up  our  quarters  at  Museyib,  a  small 
town  on  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates,  six  or 
eight  miles  above  the  Hindiyah  Barrage,  a  dam 
finished  a  few  years  before,  and  designed  to 
irrigate  a  large  tract  of  potentially  rich  coun- 
try. We  patrolled  out  to  Mohamediyah,  a 
village  on  the  caravan  desert  route  to  Baghdad, 
and  thence  down  to  Hilleh,  around  which  stand 
the  ruins  of  ancient  Babylon.  The  rainy  sea- 
son was  just  beginning,  and  it  was  obvious  that 
the  patrolling  could  not  be  continuous,  for  a 
twelve-hour  rain  would  make  the  country 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON        71 

impassable  to  our  heavy  cars  for  two  or  three 
days.  We  were  fortunate  in  having  pleasant 
company  in  the  officers  of  a  Punjabi  infantry 
battalion  and  an  Indian  cavalry  regiment. 
Having  commandeered  an  ancient  caravan- 
serai for  garage  and  billets,  we  set  to  work  to 
clean  it  out  and  make  it  as  waterproof  as  cir- 
cumstances would  permit.  An  oil-drum  with 
a  length  of  iron  telegraph-pole  stuck  in  its 
top  provided  a  serviceable  stove,  and  when 
it  rained  we  played  bridge  or  read. 

I  was  ever  ready  to  reduce  my  kit  to  any 
extent  in  order  to  have  space  for  some  books, 
and  Voltaire's  Charles  XII  was  the  first  called 
upon  to  carry  me  to  another  part  of  the  world 
from  that  in  which  I  at  the  moment  found 
myself.  I  always  kept  a  volume  of  some  sort 
in  my  pocket,  and  during  halts  I  would  read  in 
the  shade  cast  by  the  turret  of  my  car.  The 
two  volumes  of  Layard's  Early  Adventures 
proved  a  great  success.  The  writer,  the  great 
Assyriologist,  is  better  known  as  the  author  of 
Nineveh  and  Babylon.  The  book  I  was  reading 
had  been  written  when  he  was  in  his  early 
twenties,  but  published  for  the  first  time  forty 
years  later.  Layard  started  life  as  a  solicitor's 
clerk  in  London,  but  upon  being  offered  a  post 


72  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

in  India  he  had  accepted  and  proceeded 
thither  overland.  On  reaching  Baghdad  he 
made  a  side-trip  into  Kurdistan,  and  became  so 
enamored  of  the  life  of  the  tribesmen  that  he 
lived  there  with  them  on  and  off  for  two  years 
— years  filled  with  adventure  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing sort. 

I  had  finished  a  translation  of  Xenophon 
shortly  before  and  found  it  a  very  different 
book  than  when  I  was  plodding  drearily 
through  it  in  the  original  at  school.  Here  it 
was  all  vivid  and  real  before  my  eyes,  with  the 
scene  of  the  great  battle  of  Cunaxa  only  a  few 
miles  from  Museyib.  Babylon  was  in  sight  of 
the  valiant  Greeks,  but  all  through  the  loss  of  a 
leader  it  was  never  to  be  theirs.  On  the  ground 
itself  one  could  appreciate  how  great  a  master- 
piece the  retreat  really  was,  and  the  hardiness 
of  the  soldiers  which  caused  Xenophon  to  re- 
gard as  a  "snow  sickness"  the  starvation  and 
utter  weariness  which  made  the  numbed  men 
lie  down  and  die  in  the  snow  of  the  Anatolian 
highlands.  He  remarks  naively  that  if  you 
could  build  a  fire  and  give  them  something  hot 
to  eat,  the  sickness  was  dispelled  ! 

The  rain  continued  to  fall  and  the  mud  be- 
came deeper  and  deeper.  It  was  all  the  Arabs 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON        73 

could  do  to  get  their  produce  into  market.  The 
bazaar  was  not  large,  but  was  always  thronged. 
I  used  to  sit  in  one  of  the  coffee-houses  and 
drink  coffee  or  tea  and  smoke  the  long-stemmed 
water-pipe,  the  narghile.  My  Arabic  was  now 
sufficiently  fluent  for  ordinary  conversation, 
and  in  these  clubs  of  the  Arab  I  could  hear 
all  the  gossip.  Bazaar  rumors  always  told  of 
our  advances  long  before  they  were  officially 
given  out.  Once  in  Baghdad  I  heard  of  an 
attack  we  had  launched.  On  going  around 
to  G.  H.  Q.  I  mentioned  the  rumor,  and  found 
that  it  was  not  yet  known  there,  but  shortly 
after  was  confirmed.  I  had  already  in  Africa 
met  with  the  "native  wireless,"  and  it  will  be 
remembered  how  in  the  Civil  War  the  planta- 
tion negroes  were  often  the  first  to  get  news  of 
the  battles.  It  is  something  that  I  have  never 
heard  satisfactorily  explained. 

In  the  coffee-houses,  besides  smoking  and 
gossiping,  we  also  played  games,  either  chess 
or  backgammon  or  munkula.  This  last  is  an 
exceedingly  primitive  and  ancient  game — it 
must  date  almost  as  far  back  as  jackstones  or 
knucklebones.  I  have  seen  the  natives  in 
Central  Africa  and  the  Indians  in  the  far 
interior  of  Brazil  playing  it  in  almost  identical 


74  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

form.  In  Mesopotamia  the  board  was  a  log 
of  wood  sliced  in  two  and  hinged  together. 
In  either  half  five  or  six  holes  were  scooped  out, 
and  the  game  consisted  in  dropping  cowrie 
shells  or  pebbles  into  the  holes.  When  the 
number  in  a  particular  hollow  came  to  a  cer- 
tain amount  with  the  addition  of  the  one 
dropped  in,  you  won  the  contents. 

In  most  places  the  coffee  was  served  in  Arab 
fashion,  not  Turkish.  In  the  latter  case  it  is 
sweet  and  thick  and  the  tiny  cup  is  half  full 
of  grounds;  in  the  former  the  coffee  is  clear  and 
bitter  and  of  unsurpassable  flavor.  The  di- 
minutive cup  is  filled  several  times,  but  each 
time  there  is  only  a  mouthful  poured  in.  Tea 
is  served  in  small  glasses,  without  milk,  but  with 
lots  of  sugar.  The  spoons  in  the  glasses  are 
pierced  with  holes  like  tea-strainers  so  that  the 
tea  may  be  stirred  without  spilling  it. 

There  was  in  particular  one  booth  I  could 
never  tire  watching.  The  old  man  who  owned 
it  was  a  vender  of  pickles.  In  rows  before  him 
were  bottles  and  jars  and  bowls  containing 
pickles  of  all  colors — red,  yellow,  green,  purple, 
white,  and  even  blue.  Above  his  head  were 
festoons  of  gayly  painted  peppers.  He  had  a 
Jong  gray  beard,  wore  a  green  turban  and  a 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON         75 

flowing  robe  with  a  gold-braided  waistcoat. 
In  the  half-lights  of  the  crowded,  covered  ba- 
zaar his  was  a  setting  in  which  Dulac  would 
have  revelled. 

At  Museyib  we  led  a  peaceful,  uneventful 
existence — completely  shut  in  by  the  mud. 
We  had  several  bazaar  rumors  about  proposed 
attacks  upon  the  engineers  who  were  survey- 
ing for  a  railroad  that  was  to  be  built  to  Hilleh 
for  the  purpose  of  transporting  the  grain-crop 
to  the  capital.  Nothing  materialized,  however. 
The  conditions  were  too  poor  to  induce  even 
the  easily  encouraged  Arabs  to  raid.  One 
morning  when  I  was  wandering  around  the 
gardens  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  I  came 
across  some  jackals  and  shot  one  with  my 
Webley  revolver.  It  was  running  and  I  fired 
a  number  of  times,  and  got  back  to  town  to 
find  that  my  shooting  had  started  all  sorts  of 
excitement  and  reports  of  uprisings. 

Christmas  came  and  the  different  officers' 
messes  organized  celebrations.  The  mess  we 
had  joined  was  largely  Scotch,  so  we  decided 
we  must  make  a  haggis,  that  "chieftain  of  the 
pudden  race."  The  ingredients,  save  for  the 
whiskey,  were  scarcely  orthodox,  but  if  it  was 
not  a  success,  at  least  no  one  admitted  it. 


76  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

As  soon  as  the  weather  cleared  we  made  a 
run  to  Kerbela — a  lovely  town,  with  miles  of 
gardens  surrounding  it  and  two  great  mosques. 
The  bazaar  was  particularly  attractive — plenti- 
fully supplied  with  everything.  We  got  quan- 
tities of  the  deliciously  flavored  pistachio-nuts 
which  were  difficult  to  obtain  elsewhere,  as 
well  as  all  sorts  of  fruit  and  vegetables.  There 
were  no  troops  stationed  in  the  vicinity,  so  the 
prices  were  lower  than  usual.  The  orders  were 
that  we  should  go  about  in  armed  bands,  but 
I  never  saw  any  marked  indication  of  hostility. 
The  British,  true  to  the  remarkable  tact  and 
tolerance  that  contributes  so  largely  to  their 
success  in  dealing  with  native  races,  posted  Mo- 
hammedan sepoys  as  guards  on  the  mosques, 
and  no  one  but  Moslems  could  even  go  into 
the  courtyards.  If  this  had  not  been  done, 
there  would  have  been  many  disturbances 
and  uprisings,  for  the  Arabs  and  Persians 
felt  so  strongly  on  the  question  that  they  re- 
garded with  marked  hostility  those  who  even 
gazed  into  the  mosque  courtyards.  Why  it  is 
so  different  in  Constantinople  I  do  not  know, 
but  there  was  certainly  no  hostility  shown  us 
in  Santa  Sophia  nor  in  the  mosque  of  Omar  in 
Jerusalem.  Be  that  as  it  may,  forbidden  fruit 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON         77 

is  always  sweet,  and  the  Tommies  were  inclined 
to  force  an  entrance.  During  a  change  of 
guard  a  Tommy  who  had  his  curiosity  and 
initiative  stimulated  through  recourse  to  arrick, 
the  fiery  liquor  distilled  from  dates,  stole  into 
the  most  holy  mosque  in  Kerbela.  By  a 
miracle  he  was  got  out  unharmed,  but  for  a 
few  hours  a  general  uprising  with  an  attendant 
massacre  of  unbelievers  was  feared. 

The  great  mosque  lost  much  of  its  dignity 
through  an  atrocious  clock-tower  standing  in 
the  courtyard  in  front  of  it.  It  had  evidently 
been  found  too  expensive  to  cover  this  tower 
with  a  golden  scale  to  shine  in  the  sun,  so  some 
ingenious  architect  hit  upon  the  plan  of  paper- 
ing it  with  flattened  kerosene-tins.  It  must 
have  glinted  gloriously  at  first,  but  weather  and 
rain  had  rusted  the  cans  and  they  presented  but 
a  sorry  spectacle.  From  the  thousand  and  one 
uses  to  which  these  oil-cans  have  been  put  by 
the  native,  one  is  inclined  to  think  that  the 
greatest  benefit  that  has  been  conferred  on  the 
natives  by  modern  civilization  is  from  the  hands 
of  the  Standard  Oil  Company. 

There  were  a  fair  number  of  Indians  living  in 
Kerbela  before  the  war,  for  devout  Shiahs  are 
anxious  to  be  buried  near  the  martyred  sons  of 


78  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Ali,  and  when  they  are  unable  to  move  to  Ker- 
bela  in  their  lifetime  they  frequently  make 
provisions  that  their  remains  may  be  trans- 
ported thither.  The  British  found  it  a  con- 
venient abode  for  native  rulers  whom  they 
were  forced  to  depose  but  still  continued  to 
pension. 

Hilleh,  which  stands  near  the  ruins  of  ancient 
Babylon,  is  a  modern  town  very  much  like 
Museyib.  I  never  had  a  chance  to  study  the 
ruins  at  any  length.  Several  times  we  went 
over  the  part  that  had  been  excavated  by  the 
Germans  immediately  before  the  war.  I  under- 
stand that  this  is  believed  to  be  the  great  palace 
where  Belshazzar  saw  the  handwriting  on  the 
wall.  It  is  built  of  bricks,  each  one  of  which 
is  stamped  in  cuneiform  characters.  There  are 
very  fine  bas-reliefs  of  animals,  both  mythical 
and  real.  In  the  centre  is  the  great  stone  lion, 
massively  impressive,  standing  over  the  pros- 
trate form  of  a  man.  The  lion  has  suffered 
from  fire  and  man;  there  have  even  been 
chips  made  in  it  recently  by  Arab  rifles,  prob- 
ably not  wantonly,  but  in  some  skirmish. 
Standing  alone  in  its  majesty  in  the  midst  of 
ruin  and  desolation  amid  the  black  tents  of 
a  people  totally  unable  to  construct  or  even 


- 

- 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON        79 

appreciate  anything  of  a  like  nature,  it  gave 
one  much  to  think  over  and  moralize  about. 
The  ruins  of  Babylon  have  been  excavated 
only  in  very  small  part;  there  are  great  iso- 
lated mounds  which  have  never  been  touched, 
and  you  can  still  pick  up  in  the  sand  bits  of 
statuary,  and  the  cylinders  that  were  used  as 
seal-rings.  The  great  city  of  Seleucia  on  the 
Tigris  was  built  largely  with  bricks  and  ma- 
sonry brought  by  barge  from  the  ruins  of  Baby- 
lon through  the  canal  that  joined  the  two  rivers. 
The  prophecy  of  Isaiah  has  fallen  true: 

And  Babylon,  the  glory  of  kingdoms,  the  beauty  of 
the  Chaldees*  excellency,  shall  be  as  when  God  over- 
threw Sodom  and  Gomorrah. 

It  shall  never  be  inhabited,  neither  shall  it  be  dwelt 
in  from  generation  to  generation:  neither  shall  the  Ara- 
bian pitch  tent  there;  neither  shall  the  shepherds  make 
their  fold  there. 

But  wild  beasts  of  the  desert  shall  lie  there;  and  their 
houses  shall  be  full  of  doleful  creatures;  and  owls  shall 
dwell  there,  and  satyrs  shall  dance  there. 

And  the  wild  beasts  of  the  islands  shall  cry  in  their 
desolate  houses,  and  dragons  in  their  pleasant  palaces: 
and  her  time  is  near  to  come,  and  her  days  shall  not  be 
prolonged. 

A  few  days  after  Christmas  we  were  ordered 
to  return  to  Baghdad.  The  going  was  still 


80  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

bad.  We  had  a  Ford  tender  in  advance  to 
find  and  warn  us  of  the  softest  spots.  Once 
it  got  into  the  middle  of  such  a  bottomless  bog 
that,  after  trying  everything  else,  I  hit  upon  the 
idea  of  rolling  it  out.  It  was  built  all  enclosed 
like  a  bread-van,  and  we  turned  it  over  and 
over  until  we  had  it  clear  of  the  mud.  We 
had  hard  work  with  the  heavy  cars — some- 
times we  could  tow  one  out  with  another, 
but  frequently  that  only  resulted  in  getting  the 
two  stuck.  Once  when  the  cars  were  badly 
bogged  I  went  to  a  near-by  Arab  village  to  get 
help.  I  told  the  head  man  that  I  wanted  bun- 
dles of  brush  to  throw  in  front  of  the  cars  in 
order  to  make  some  sort  of  a  foundation  to 
pass  them  over.  He  at  once  started  turning 
out  his  people  to  aid  us,  but  after  he  had  got 
a  number  of  loads  under  way  he  caught  sight  of 
one  of  his  wives,  who,  instead  of  coming  to 
our  assistance,  was  washing  some  clothes  in  a 
copper  caldron  by  the  fire.  There  followed  a 
scene  which  demonstrated  that  even  an  Arab 
is  by  no  means  always  lord  of  his  own  house- 
hold. The  wife  refused  to  budge;  the  Arab 
railed  and  stormed,  but  she  went  calmly  on 
with  her  washing,  paying  no  more  attention  to 
his  fury  than  if  he  were  a  fractious,  unreasona- 


THE  RUINS  OF  BABYLON         81 

ble  child.  At  length,  driven  to  a  white  heat  of 
rage,  the  head  man  upset  the  caldron  into  the 
fire  with  his  foot.  The  woman,  without  a  word, 
got  up  and  stalked  into  a  near-by  hut,  from 
which  she  refused  to  emerge.  There  was  noth- 
ing for  her  discomfited  adversary  to  do  but  go 
on  with  his  rounds. 

By  manoeuvring  and  digging  and  towing  we 
managed  to  make  seven  -miles  after  fourteen 
hours'  work  that  first  day.  Night  found  us 
close  beside  an  Arab  village,  from  which  I  got 
a  great  bowl  of  buffalo  milk  to  put  into  the 
men's  coffee.  Early  in  the  morning  we  were 
off  again.  The  going  was  so  much  better  that 
we  were  able  to  make  Baghdad  at  ten  o'clock 
in  the  evening. 


IV 

Skirmishes  and  Reconnaissances  Along 
the  Kurdish  Front 


IV 

SKIRMISHES  AND  RECONNAISSANCES 
ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT 

We  spent  a  few  days  making  repairs  and 
outfitting  before  starting  off  again.  This  time 
our  destination  was  Deli  Abbas,  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Thirteenth  Division.  The 
town  is  situated  in  the  plains  below  the  foot- 
hills of  the  Persian  Mountains,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Khalis  Canal,  some  seventy  miles  north- 
east of  Baghdad.  At  dawn  we  passed  out  of 
the  north  gate,  close  to  where  General  Maude 
is  buried,  and  whirled  across  the  desert  for 
thirty  miles  to  Bakuba,  a  prosperous  city  on 
the  banks  of  the  Diyala.  From  the  junction 
of  the  greater  Zab  down  to  Kurna,  where  the 
Euphrates  joins,  this  stream  is  the  most  im- 
portant affluent  of  the  Tigris.  It  was  one  of 
those  bright,  sparkling  mornings  on  which 
merely  to  be  alive  and  breathe  is  a  joy.  We 
passed  a  number  of  caravans,  bringing  carpets 
and  rugs  from  Persia,  or  fruit  and  vegetables 
from  the  rich  agricultural  district  around 

85 


86  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Bakuba.  The  silks  manufactured  here  are  of 
a  fine  quality  and  well  known  throughout  the 
country. 

After  passing  the  big  aerodrome  near  the 
town,  the  going  became  very  bad;  we  struggled 
along  through  the  village  of  Deltawa,  in  and 
out  of  unfathomable  ditches.  The  rivers  were 
in  flood,  and  we  ran  into  lakes  and  swamps 
that  we  cautiously  skirted.  Dark  overtook 
us  in  the  middle  of  a  network  of  bogs,  but  we 
came  upon  an  outpost  of  Welsh  Fusiliers  and 
spent  the  night  with  them.  We  had  smashed 
the  bottom  plate  of  one  of  the  cars,  so  that  all 
the  oil  ran  out  of  the  crank-case,  but  with  a 
side  of  the  ever-useful  kerosene  tin  we  patched 
the  car  up  temporarily  and  pushed  off  at  early 
dawn.  Our  route  wound  through  groves  of 
palms  surrounding  the  tumble-down  tomb  of 
some  holy  man,  occasional  collections  of  squalid 
little  huts,  and  in  the  intervening  "despoblado" 
we  would  catch  sight  of  a  jackal  crouching  in 
the  hollow  or  slinking  off  through  the  scrub. 
Deli  Abbas  proved  a  half-deserted  straggling 
town  which  gave  evidence  of  having  once  seen 
prosperous  days.  Some  Turkish  aeroplanes 
heralded  our  arrival. 

In  front  of  us  rose  the  Jebel  Hamrin — Red 


ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT    87 

Hills — beyond  them  the  snow-clad  peaks  of 
the  Kurdish  Range.  A  few  months  previous 
we  had  captured  the  passes  over  the  Jebel,  and 
we  were  now  busy  repairing  and  improving 
the  roads — in  particular  that  across  the  Abu 
Hajjar,  not  for  nothing  named  by  the  Arabs 
the  "Father  of  Stones."  Whenever  the  going 
permitted  we  went  out  on  reconnaissances — 
rekkos,  as  we  called  them.  They  varied  but 
slightly;  the  one  I  went  on  the  day  after 
reaching  Deli  Abbas  might  serve  as  model. 
We  started  at  daybreak  and  ran  to  a  little 
village  called  Ain  Lailah,  the  Spring  of  Night, 
a  lovely  name  for  the  small  clump  of  palm- 
trees  tucked  away  unexpectedly  in  a  hollow 
among  barren  foot-hills.  There  we  picked  up 
a  surveyor — an  officer  whose  business  it  was  to 
make  maps  for  the  army.  We  passed  through 
great  herds  of  camels,  some  with  small  chil- 
dren perched  on  their  backs,  who  joggled  about 
like  sailors  on  a  storm-tossed  ship,  as  the 
camels  made  away  from  the  cars.  There  were 
villages  of  the  shapeless  black  tents  of  the 
nomads  huddled  in  among  the  desolate  dunes. 
We  picked  up  a  Turk  deserter  who  was  try- 
ing to  reach  our  lines.  He  said  that  his  six 
comrades  had  been  killed  by  Arabs.  Shortly 


88  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

afterward  we  ran  into  a  cavalry  patrol,  but 
the  men  escaped  over  some  very  broken  ground 
before  we  could  satisfactorily  come  to  terms 
with  them.  It  was  lucky  for  the  deserter  that 
we  found  him  before  they  did,  for  his  shrift 
would  have  been  short.  We  got  back  to  camp 
at  half  past  eight,  having  covered  ninety-two 
miles  in  our  windings — a  good  day's  work. 

Each  section  had  two  motorcycles  attached  to 
it — jackals,  as  one  of  the  generals  called  them, 
in  apt  reference  to  the  way  in  which  jackals  ac- 
company a  lion  when  hunting.  The  cyclists 
rode  ahead  to  spy  out  the  country  and  the  best 
course  to  follow.  When  we  got  into  action  they 
would  drop  behind,  and  we  used  them  to  send 
messages  back  to  camp.  The  best  motor- 
cyclist we  had  was  a  Swiss  named  Milson.  He 
was  of  part  English  descent,  and  came  at  once 
from  Switzerland  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war  to 
enlist.  When  he  joined  he  spoke  only  broken 
English  but  was  an  exceedingly  intelligent 
man  and  had  been  attending  a  technical  col- 
lege. I  have  never  seen  a  more  skilful  rider; 
he  could  get  his  cycle  along  through  the  mud 
when  we  were  forced  to  carry  the  others,  and 
no  one  was  more  cool  and  unconcerned  under 
fire.  The  personnel  of  the  battery  left  nothing 


ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT    89 

to  be  desired.  One  was  proud  to  serve  among 
such  a  fine  set  of  men.  Corporal  Summers 
drove  the  car  in  which  I  usually  rode,  and 
I  have  never  met  with  a  better  driver  or  one 
who  understood  his  car  so  thoroughly,  and 
possessed  that  intangible  sympathy  with  it 
which  is  the  gift  of  a  few,  but  can  be  never 
attained. 

We  were  still  in  the  rainy  season.  We  had 
to  travel  as  light  as  possible,  and  all  we  could 
bring  were  forty-pounder  tents,  which  corre- 
spond to  the  American  dog-tent.  Very  low, 
they  withstood  in  remarkable  fashion  the 
periodical  hurricanes  of  wind  and  rain.  They 
kept  us  fairly  dry,  too,  for  we  were  careful  to 
ditch  them  well.  There  was  room  for  two  men 
to  sleep  in  the  turret  of  a  Rolls,  and  they 
could  spread  a  tarpaulin  over  the  top  to  keep 
the  rain  from  coming  in  through  the  various 
openings.  The  balance  of  the  men  had  a  com- 
munal tent  or  slept  in  the  tenders.  The 
larger  tents  in  the  near-by  camps  blew  down 
frequently,  but  with  us  it  happened  only  occa- 
sionally. There  are  happier  moments  than 
those  spent  in  the  inky  blackness  amid  a  tor- 
rential deluge,  when  you  try  to  extricate  your- 
self from  the  wet,  clinging  folds  of  falling  canvas. 


90  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Time  hung  heavily  when  the  weather  was 
bad,  and  we  were  cooped  up  inside  our  tents 
without  even  a  hostile  aeroplane  to  shoot  at. 
One  day  when  the  going  was  too  poor  to  take 
out  the  heavy  cars,  I  set  off  in  a  tender  to 
visit  another  section  of  the  battery  that  was 
stationed  thirty  or  forty  miles  away  in  the 
direction  of  Persia,  close  by  a  town  called  Kizil 
Robat.  We  had  a  rough  trip,  with  several 
difficult  fords  to  cross.  It  was  only  through 
working  with  the  icy  water  above  our  waists 
that  we  won  through  the  worst,  amid  the 
shouts  of  "Shabash,  Sahib!"  ("Well [clone !") 
from  the  onlooking  Indian  troops.  I  reached 
the  camp  to  find  the  section  absent  on  a  recon- 
naissance, for  the  country  was  better  drained 
than  that  over  which  we  were  working.  A  few 
minutes  later  one  of  the  cyclists  came  in  with 
the  news  that  the  cars  were  under  heavy  fire 
about  twenty-five  miles  away  and  one  of  them 
was  badly  bogged.  I  immediately  loaded  all 
the  surplus  men  and  eight  Punjabis  from  a 
near-by  regiment  into  the  tenders.  We  reached 
the  scene  just  after  the  disabled  car  had  been 
abandoned.  Some  of  the  Turks  were  con- 
cealed in  a  village  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
away;  the  rest  were  behind  some  high  irriga- 


ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT    91 

tion  embankments.  The  free  car  had  been 
unable  to  circle  around  or  flank  them  because 
of  the  nature  of  the  terrain.  The  men  had  not 
known  that  the  village  was  occupied  and  had 
bogged  down  almost  at  the  same  time  that  the 
Turks  opened  fire.  By  breaking  down  an  irri- 
gation ditch  the  enemy  succeeded  in  further 
flooding  the  locality  where  the  automobile  was 
trapped.  The  Turks  made  it  hot  for  the  men 
when  they  tried  to  dig  out  the  car.  The  bullets 
spattered  about  them.  It  was  difficult  to  tell 
how  many  Turks  we  accounted  for.  As  dark 
came  on,  the  occupants  of  the  disabled  car 
abandoned  it  and  joined  the  other  one,  which 
was  standing  off  the  enemy  but  had  lost  all  four 
tires  and  was  running  on  its  rims.  We  held  a 
consultation  and  decided  to  stay  where  we  were 
until  dawn.  We  had  scarcely  made  the  deci- 
sion when  one  of  our  cyclists  arrived  with  orders 
from  the  brigade  commander  to  return  imme- 
diately. Although  exceedingly  loath  to  leave 
the  armored  car,  we  had  no  other  course  than 
to  obey. 

It  was  after  midnight  by  the  time  we  made 
back  to  camp.  We  were  told  that  a  small 
attack  had  been  planned  for  the  morning,  and 
that  then  we  could  go  out  with  the  troops  and 


92  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

recover  our  car,  using  some  artillery  horses 
to  drag  it  free.  The  troops  soon  began  filing 
past,  but  we  didn't  pull  out  till  three  o'clock, 
by  which  time  we  were  reinforced  by  an  armored 
car  from  another  battery.  We  were  held  back 
behind  the  advanced  cavalry  until  daylight, 
and  felt  certain  that  the  Turks  would  have 
either  destroyed  or  succeeded  in  removing  our 
car.  Nor  were  we  wrong,  for  just  as  we  breasted 
the  hill  that  brought  the  scene  of  yesterday's 
engagement  into  view,  we  saw  the  smoke  of  an 
explosion  and  the  men  running  back  into  the 
village.  We  cleared  the  village  with  the  help 
of  a  squadron  of  the  Twenty-First  cavalry, 
and  found  that  the  car  had  been  almost  freed 
during  the  night.  It  was  a  bad  wreck,  but  we 
were  able  to  tow  it.  I  wished  to  have  a  reckon- 
ing with  the  village  head  man,  and  walked  to 
an  isolated  group  of  houses  a  few  hundred  yards 
to  the  left  of  the  village.  As  I  neared  them  a 
lively  fusillade  opened  and  I  had  to  take 
refuge  in  a  convenient  irrigation  ditch.  The 
country  was  so  broken  that  it  was  impossible 
for  us  to  operate,  so  we  towed  the  car  back  to 
camp. 

Our  section  from  Deli  Abbas  was  moved  up 
to  take  the  place  of  the  one  that  had  been  en- 


Hauling  out  a  badly  bogged  fighting  car 


A  Mesopotamian  garage 


ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT    93 

gaged,  which  now  returned  to  Baghdad.  We 
were  camped  at  Mirjana,  a  few  miles  north 
of  Kizil  Robat,  on  the  Diyala  River.  A  pon- 
toon bridge  was  thrown  across  and  the  cars 
were  taken  over  to  the  right  bank,  where  we 
bivouacked  with  a  machine-gun  company  and  a 
battalion  of  native  infantry.  The  bed  of  the 
river  was  very  wide,  and  although  throughout 
the  greater  part  of  the  year  the  water  flowed 
only  through  the  narrow  main  channel,  in  the 
time  of  the  spring  floods  the  whole  distance 
was  a  riotous  yellow  torrent.  We  had  no  sooner 
got  the  cars  across  than  the  river  began  to  rise. 
During  the  first  night  part  of  the  bridge  was 
carried  away,  and  the  rest  was  withdrawn. 
The  rise  continued;  trees  and  brush  were  swept 
racing  past.  We  made  several  fruitless  at- 
tempts to  get  across  in  the  clumsy  pontoons, 
but  finally  gave  it  up,  resigning  ourselves  to 
being  marooned.  We  put  ourselves  on  short 
rations  and  waited  for  the  river  to  fall.  If 
the  Turks  had  used  any  intelligence  they  could 
have  gathered  us  hi  with  the  greatest  ease,  in 
spite  of  our  excellent  line  of  trenches.  On  the 
fourth  day  of  our  isolation  the  river  subsided  as 
rapidly  as  it  had  risen. 

We  had  good  patrolling  conditions,  and  each 


94  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

day  we  made  long  circuits.  Sometimes  we 
would  run  into  a  body  of  enemy  cavalry  and 
have  a  skirmish  with  them.  Again  we  would 
come  upon  an  infantry  outpost  and  manoeuvre 
about  in  an  effort  to  damage  it.  The  enemy 
set  traps  for  us,  digging  big  holes  in  the  road 
and  covering  them  over  with  matting  on  which 
they  scattered  dirt  to  make  the  surface  appear 
normal.  The  nearest  town  occupied  by  the 
Turks  was  Kara  Tepe,  distant  from  Mir j  ana 
eight  or  ten  miles  as  the  crow  flies.  In  the  de- 
batable land  were  a  number  of  native  villages, 
and  such  inhabitants  as  remained  in  them  led 
an  unpleasantly  eventful  existence.  In  the 
morning  they  would  be  visited  by  a  Turkish 
patrol,  which  would  be  displaced  by  us  in  our 
rounds.  Perhaps  in  the  evening  a  band  of 
wild  mountainy  Kurds  would  blow  in  and  run 
off  some  of  their  few  remaining  sheep.  Then 
the  Turks  would  return  and  accuse  them  of  hav- 
ing given  us  information,  and  carry  off  some 
hostages  or  possibly  beat  a  couple  of  them  for 
having  received  us,  although  goodness  knows 
they  had  little  enough  choice  in  the  matter. 
There  was  one  old  sheik  with  whom  I  used 
often  to  sit  and  gossip  while  an  attendant  was 
roasting  the  berries  for  our  coffee  over  the  near- 


ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT    95 

by  fire.  He  was  ever  asking  why  we  couldn't 
make  an  advance  and  put  his  village  safely  be- 
hind our  lines,  so  that  the  children  could  grow 
fat  and  the  herds  graze  unharmed.  In  this 
country  Kurdish  and  Turkish  were  spoken  as 
frequently  as  Arabic,  and  many  of  the  names  of 
places  were  Turkish — such  as  Kara  Tepe, 
which  means  Black  Mountain,  and  Kizil  Robat, 
the  Tomb  of  the  Maidens.  My  spelling  of 
these  names  differs  from  that  found  on  many 
maps.  It  would  be  a  great  convenience  if  some 
common  method  could  be  agreed  upon.  At 
present  the  map-makers  conform  only  in  a 
unanimous  desire  to  each  use  a  different  trans- 
literation. 

Kizil  Robat  is  an  attractive  town.  I  spent 
some  pleasant  mornings  wandering  about  it 
with  the  mayor,  Jameel  Bey,  a  fine-looking 
Kurdish  chieftain  of  the  Jaf  tribe.  He  owned 
a  lovely  garden  with  date-palms,  oranges, 
pomegranates,  and  figs.  Tattered  Kurds  were 
working  on  the  irrigation  ditches,  and  a  heap  of 
rags  lying  below  the  wall  in  the  sun  changed 
itself  into  a  small  boy,  just  as  I  was  about  to 
step  on  it.  JameePs  son  was  as  white,  with 
as  rosy  cheeks,  as  any  American  baby. 

Harry    Bowen,    brother-in-law    of    General 


96  WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Cobbe,  was  the  political  officer  in  charge  of 
Kizil  Robat.  He  spoke  excellent  Arabic  and 
was  much  respected  by  the  natives.  His 
house  was  an  oasis  in  which  I  could  always  look 
forward  to  a  pleasant  talk,  an  excellent  native 
dinner,  and  some  interesting  book  to  carry  off. 
Although  the  town  was  small,  there  were  three 
good  Turkish  baths.  One  of  them  belonged  to 
Jameel  Bey,  but,  judging  from  the  children 
tending  babies  while  squatting  in  the  entrance 
portico,  was  generally  given  over  to  the  distaff 
side  and  its  friends.  The  one  which  we  pat- 
ronized, while  not  so  grand  a  building,  had  an 
old  Persian  who  understood  the  art  of  massage 
thoroughly,  and  there  was  nothing  more  rest- 
ful after  a  number  of  days'  hard  work  with 
the  cars. 

In  the  end  of  February  there  passed  through 
Kizil  Robat  the  last  contingent  of  our  former 
Russian  Allies.  They  were  Cossacks — a  fine- 
looking  lot  as  they  rode  along  perched  on  their 
small  chunky  saddles  atop  of  their  unkempt  but 
hardy  ponies.  When  Russia  went  out  of  the 
war  they  asked  permission  to  keep  on  fighting 
with  us.  They  were  a  good  deal  of  a  problem, 
for  they  had  no  idea  whatever  of  discipline, 
and  it  was  most  difficult  to  keep  them  in  hand 


ALONG  THE  KURDISH  FRONT    97 

and  stop  them  from  pillaging  the  natives  in- 
discriminately. They  had  been  completely 
cut  off  from  Russia  for  a  long  time  but  were 
now  on  their  way  back.  A  very  intelligent 
woman  doctor  and  a  number  of  nurses  who  had 
been  with  them  were  sick  with  smallpox  in  one 
of  our  hospitals  in  Baghdad.  When  they  re- 
covered they  were  sent  to  India,  for  it  was  not 
feasible  to  repatriate  them  by  way  of  Persia. 
When  the  Russians  first  established  connection 
with  us,  some  armored  cars  were  sent  to  bring  in 
the  Cossack  general,  whose  name  we  were  told 
was  Leslie.  We  were  unprepared  to  find  that 
he  spoke  no  English !  It  turned  out  that  his 
ancestors  had  gone  over  from  Scotland  to  the 
court  of  Peter  the  Great. 


V 

The  Advance  on  the  Euphrates 


V 

THE  ADVANCE  ON  THE  EUPHRATES 

Early  in  March  we  got  orders  to  return  to 
Baghdad,  where  all  the  armored  cars  were  to 
be  concentrated  preparatory  to  an  attack  on 
the  Euphrates  front.  There  was  much  specu- 
lation as  to  our  mission.  Some  said  that  we 
were  to  break  through  and  establish  connection 
with  General  Allenby's  forces  in  Palestine. 
While  I  know  nothing  about  it  authoritatively, 
it  is  certain  that  if  the  state  of  affairs  in  France 
had  not  called  for  the  withdrawal  from  the  East 
of  all  the  troops  that  could  be  spared,  the  at- 
tack that  was  launched  in  October  would  have 
taken  place  in  March.  We  could  then  have 
advanced  up  the  Euphrates,  and  it  would  have 
been  entirely  practical  to  cross  over  the  desert 
in  the  cars  by  way  of  Tadmor. 

When  we  got  word  to  come  in,  the  roads  were 
in  fearful  shape  and  the  rain  was  falling  in  tor- 
rents, but  we  were  so  afraid  that  we  might  miss 
the  attack  that  we  salvaged  everything  not 

essential  and  started  to  fight  our  way  through 

101 


102    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  mud.  It  was  a  slow  and  wearisome  proc- 
ess, but  we  managed  to  get  as  far  as  Bakuba 
by  evening.  The  river  was  rising  in  one  of  its 
periodical  floods  and  we  found  that  the  pon- 
toon bridge  had  been  cut  hah*  an  hour  before  our 
arrival.  No  one  could  predict  how  long  the 
flood  would  last,  but  the  river  rarely  went  down 
sufficiently  to  allow  the  bridge  to  be  replaced 
within  a  week.  At  that  time  the  railroad  went 
only  as  far  as  Bakuba,  and  crossed  the  river 
on  a  wooden  trestle,  so  I  decided  to  try  to  load 
the  motors  on  a  flat  car  and  get  across  the 
Diyala  in  that  way. 

After  having  made  arrangements  to  do  this 
I  wandered  off  into  the  bazaar  to  get  some- 
thing to  eat.  In  native  fashion  I  first  bought 
a  big  flap  of  bread  from  an  old  woman,  and  then 
went  to  a  pickle  booth  to  get  some  beets,  which 
I  wrapped  in  my  bread.  Next  I  proceeded  to 
a  meat-shop  and  ordered  some  lamb  kababs 
roasted.  The  meat  is  cut  in  pellets,  spitted 
on  rods  six  or  eight  inches  long,  and  lain  over 
the  glowing  charcoal  embers.  In  the  shop 
there  are  long  tables  with  benches  beside  them. 
The  customer  spreads  his  former  purchases, 
and  when  his  kababs  are  ready  he  eats  his 
dinner.  He  next  proceeds  to  a  coffee-house, 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  103 

where  he  has  a  couple  of  glasses  of  tea  and 
three  or  four  diminutive  cups  of  coffee  to  top 
off,  and  the  meal  is  finished.  The  Arab  eats 
sparingly  as  a  rule,  but  when  he  gives  or  at- 
tends a  banquet  he  stuffs  himself  to  his  ut- 
most capacity. 

Next  morning  we  loaded  our  cars  successfully 
and  started  off  by  rail  for  Baghdad,  some  thirty 
miles  away.  The  railroad  wound  across  the 
desert,  with  here  and  there  a  water-tank  with 
a  company  from  a  native  regiment  guarding 
it.  As  we  stopped  at  one  particularly  desolate 
spot,  a  young  officer  came  running  up  and  asked 
if  we  would  have  tea  with  him.  He  took  us 
to  his  tent,  where  everything  was  ready,  for 
he  apparently  always  met  the  two  trains  that 
passed  through  daily.  Poor  fellow,  he  was  only 
a  little  over  twenty,  and  desperately  lonely  and 
homesick.  Many  of  the  young  officers  who 
were  wounded  in  France  were  sent  to  India 
with  the  idea  that  they  could  be  training  men 
and  getting  on  to  the  methods  of  the  Indian 
army  while  yet  recuperating  and  unfit  to  go 
back  to  the  front.  They  were  shipped  out  with 
a  new  draft  when  they  had  fully  recovered. 
This  boy  had  only  been  a  month  in  the  coun- 
try, and  ten  days  before  had  been  sent  off  in 


104    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

charge  of  his  Sikh  company  to  do  this  weari- 
some guard  duty. 

We  spent  a  few  days  in  Baghdad  refitting. 
The  cars  were  to  go  out  camouflaged  to  resem- 
ble supply-trucks,  for  every  precaution  was 
taken  to  prevent  the  Turks  from  realizing  that 
we  were  massing  men  for  an  attack.  The 
night  before  we  were  to  start,  word  came  in 
that  the  political  officer  at  Nejef  had  been 
murdered,  and  the  town  was  in  revolt.  We 
were  ordered  to  send  a  section  there  immedi- 
ately, so  Lieutenant  Ballingal's  was  chosen, 
while  the  rest  of  us  left  next  morning  with  the 
balance  of  the  battery  for  Hit.  The  first  part 
of  the  route  lay  across  the  desert  to  Falujah,  a 
prosperous  agricultural  town  on  the  Euphrates. 
Rail-head  lies  just  beyond  at  a  place  known  as 
Tel  El  Dhubban— the  "Hill  of  the  Flies." 
From  there  on  supplies  were  brought  forward 
by  motor  transport,  or  in  Arab  barges,  called 
shakturs.  We  crossed  the  river  on  a  bridge 
of  boats  and  continued  up  along  the  bank  to 
Ramadie.  Here  I  stayed  over,  detailed  to 
escort  the  army  commander  on  a  tour  of  inspec- 
tion. 

The  smaller  towns  along  the  Euphrates  are 
far  more  attractive  than  those  on  the  Tigris. 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  105 

The  country  seems  more  developed,  and  most 
inviting  gardens  surround  the  villages.  Hit, 
which  lies  twenty  miles  up-stream  of  Ramadie, 
is  an  exception.  It  is  of  ancient  origin  and 
built  upon  a  hill,  with  a  lovely  view  of  the  river. 
It  has  not  a  vestige  of  green  on  it,  but  stands 
out  bleak  and  harsh  in  contrast  to  the  palm- 
groves  fringing  the  bank.  The  bitumen  wells 
near  by  have  been  worked  for  five  thousand 
years  and  are  responsible  for  the  town  being  a 
centre  of  boat  manufacture.  With  the  bitu- 
men, the  gufas  and  mahelas  are  "pitched  with- 
out and  within,"  in  the  identical  manner  in 
which  we  are  told  that  the  ark  was  built.  The 
jars  in  which  the  women  of  the  town  draw  wa- 
ter from  the  river,  instead  of  being  of  copper  or 
earthenware  as  elsewhere,  are  here  made  of 
pitched  wicker-work.  The  smell  of  the  boiling 
bitumen  and  the  sulphur  springs  is  trying  to 
a  stranger,  although  the  natives  regard  it  as 
salubrious,  and  maintain  that  through  it  the 
town  is  saved  from  cholera  epidemics.  We 
had  captured  Hit  a  few  weeks  previously,  and 
the  aeroplanes  flying  low  over  the  town  had 
reported  the  disagreeable  smell,  attributing  it 
to  dirt  and  filth.  "Eyewitness,"  the  official 
newspaper  correspondent,  mentioned  this  in 


106    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

despatches,  and  when  I  was  passing  through,  a 
proclamation  of  apology  was  being  prepared 
to  soothe  the  outraged  and  slandered  townsfolk. 
After  taking  the  army  commander -back  to 
rail-head,  we  retraced  our  steps  with  all  speed 
to  Hit,  and  thence  the  eight  miles  up-stream 
to  Salahiyeh.  The  road  beyond  Hit  was  in 
fearful  shape,  and  the  engineers  were  working 
night  and  day  to  keep  it  open  and  in  some  way 
passable.  In  the  proposed  attack  we  were 
to  jump  off  from  Salahiyeh,  and  it  was  here 
that  the  armored  cars  were  assembled.  Our 
camp  was  close  to  a  Turkish  hospital.  There 
were  two  great  crescents  and  stars  laid  out  for 
a  signal  to  warn  our  aeroplanes  not]  to  drop 
bombs.  One  of  the  crescents  was  made  of  turf 
and  the  other  of  limestone.  The  batteries 
took  turns  in  making  the  reconnaissances, 
in  the  course  of  which  they  would  come  in  for 
a  good  deal  of  shelling.  The  road  was  un- 
pleasant, because  the  camels  and  transport 
animals  that  had  been  killed  during  the 
Turkish  retreat  from  Hit  were  by  now  very 
high.  For  some  unknown  reason  there  were 
no  jackals  or  vultures  to  form  a  sanitary  sec- 
tion. After  reconnoitring  the  enemy  positions 
and  noting  the  progress  they  were  making  in 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  107 

constructing  their  defenses,  we  would  make  a 
long  circuit  back  to  camp. 

One  unoccupied  morning  I  went  over  to  an 
island  on  the  river.  Its  cool,  restful  look  had 
attracted  me  on  the  day  I  arrived,  and  it  quite 
fulfilled  its  promise.  Indeed,  it  was  the  only 
place  I  came  across  in  Mesopotamia  that 
might  have  been  a  surviving  fragment  of  the 
Garden  of  Eden.  It  was  nearly  a  mile  long, 
and  scattered  about  on  it  were  seven  or  eight 
thick-walled  and  well-fortified  houses.  The 
entire  island  was  one  great  palm-grove,  with 
pomegranates,  apricots,  figs,  orange-trees,  and 
grape-vines  growing  beneath  the  palms.  The 
grass  at  the  foot  of  the  trees  was  dotted  with 
blue  and  pink  flowers.  Here  and  there  were 
fields  of  spring  wheat.  The  water-ditches 
which  irrigated  the  island  were  filled  by  giant 
water-wheels,  thirty  to  fifty  feet  in  diameter. 
These  "naurs"  have  been  well  described  in  the 
Bible,  and  I  doubt  if  they  have  since  been  modi- 
fied in  a  single  item.  There  are  sometimes  as 
many  as  sixteen  in  a  row.  As  they  scoop  the 
water  up  in  the  gourd-shaped  earthenware  jars 
bound  to  their  rims,  they  shriek  and  groan 
on  their  giant  wooden  axles. 

On  the  night  of  March  25  we  got  word 


108    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

that  the  long-expected  attack  would  take 
place  next  morning.  We  had  the  cars  ready 
to  move  out  by  three.  Since  midnight  shad- 
owy files  had  been  passing  on  their  way  for- 
ward to  get  into  position.  One  of  our  bat- 
teries went  with  the  infantry  to  advance  against 
the  main  fortified  position  at  Khan  Baghdadi. 
The  rest  of  us  went  with  the  cavalry  around  the 
flank  to  cut  the  Turks  off  if  they  tried  to  re- 
treat up-stream.  We  were  well  on  our  way  at 
daybreak.  The  country  was  so  broken  up 
with  ravines  and  dry  river-beds  that  we  knew 
we  had  a  long,  hard  march  ahead  of  us.  Our 
maps  were  poor.  A  German  officer  that  we 
captured  ha'd  in  some  manner  got  hold  of  our 
latest  map,  and  noting  that  we  had  omitted 
entirely  a  very  large  ravine,  became  convinced 
that  any  enveloping  movement  we  attempted 
would  prove  a  failure.  As  it  happened,  we 
came  close  to  making  the  blunder  he  had  an- 
ticipated, for  we  started  to  advance  down  to  the 
river  along  the  bank  of  a  nullah  which  would 
have  taken  us  to  Khan  Baghdadi  instead  of 
eight  or  ten  miles  above  it,  as  we  wished.  I 
think  it  was  our  aeroplanes  that  set  us  straight. 
I  was  in  charge  of  the  tenders  with  supplies 
and  spares,  and  spent  most  of  the  time  in  the 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  109 

leading  Napier  lorry.  Occasionally  I  sb'pped 
into  an  armored  car  to  go  off  somewhere  on  a 
separate  mission.  The  Turks  had  doubtless 
anticipated  a  flanking  movement  and  kept 
shelling  us  to  a  certain  extent,  but  we  could  hear 
that  they  were  occupying  themselves  chiefly 
with  the  straight  attacking  force.  By  after- 
noon we  had  turned  in  toward  the  river  and 
our  cavalry  was  soon  engaged.  The  country- 
was  too  broken  for  the  cars  to  get  in  any  really 
effective  work.  By  nightfall  we  hoped  we 
were  approximately  where  we  should  be,  and 
after  making  our  dispositions  as  well  as  the 
circumstances  would  permit,  we  lay  down 
beside  the  cars  and  were  soon  sound  asleep. 
At  midnight  we  were  awakened  by  the  bullets 
chipping  the  rocks  and  stones  among  which  we 
were  sleeping.  A  night  attack  was  evidently 
under  way,  and  it  is  always  an  eerie  sensation. 
We  correctly  surmised  that  the  Turks  were  in 
retreat  from  Khan  Baghdadi  and  had  run  into 
our  outposts.  In  a  few  minutes  we  were  reply- 
ing in  volume,  and  the  rat-tat-tats  of  the 
machine-guns  on  either  side  were  continuous. 
The  enemy  must  have  greatly  overestimated 
our  numbers,  for  in  a  short  time  small  groups 
started  surrendering,  and  before  things  had 


110    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

quieted  we  had  twelve  hundred  prisoners. 
The  cavalry  formed  a  rough  prison-camp  and 
we  turned  in  again  to  wait  for  daylight. 

At  dawn  we  started  to  reconnoitre  our  posi- 
tion to  find  out  just  how  matters  stood.  We 
came  upon  a  body  of  two  thousand  of  the 
enemy  which  had  been  held  up  by  us  in  the 
night  and  had  retreated  a  short  distance  to 
wait  till  it  became  light  before  surrendering. 
Among  them  were  a  number  of  German  officers. 
They  were  all  of  them  well  equipped  with 
machine-guns  and  rifles.  Their  intrenching 
tools  and  medical  supplies  were  of  Austrian 
manufacture,  as  were  also  the  rolling  kitchens. 
These  last  were  of  an  exceedingly  practical 
design.  While  we  were  taking  stock  of  our 
capture  we  got  word  that  Khan  Baghdadi  had 
been  occupied  and  a  good  number  of  prisoners 
taken.  We  were  instructed  to  press  on  and 
take  Haditha,  thirty  miles  above  Khan  Bagh- 
dadi. It  was  hoped  that  we  might  recapture 
Colonel  Tennant,  who  was  in  command  of  the 
Royal  Flying  Corps  forces  in  Mesopotamia. 
He  had  been  shot  down  at  Khan  Baghdadi 
the  day  before  the  attack.  We  learned  from 
prisoners  that  he  had  been  sent  up-stream 
immediately,  on  his  way  to  Aleppo,  but  it 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  111 

was  thought  that  he  might  have  been  held 
over  at  Haditha  or  at  Ana. 

We  found  that  a  lot  of  the  enemy  had  got 
by  between  us  and  the  river  and  had  then 
swung  back  into  the  road.  We  met  with  little 
opposition,  save  from  occasional  bands  of  strag- 
glers who  concealed  themselves  behind  rocks 
and  sniped  at  us.  Numbers  surrendered  with- 
out resistance  as  we  caught  up  with  them.  We 
disarmed  them  and  ordered  them  to  walk  back 
until  they  fell  in  with  our  cavalry,  or  the  in- 
fantry, which  was  being  brought  forward  in 
trucks.  As  we  bowled  along  in  pursuit  the 
scene  reminded  me  of  descriptions  in  the  novels 
of  Sienkiewicz  or  Erckmann-Chatrian.  The 
road  was  littered  with  equipment  of  every 
sort,  disabled  pack-animals,  and  dead  or  dying 
Turks.  It  was  hard  to  see  the  wounded  wither- 
ing in  the  increasing  heat — the  dead  were  better 
off.  We  reached  the  heights  overlooking  Hadi- 
tha to  find  that  the  garrison  was  in  full  retreat. 
Most  of  it  had  left  the  night  before.  Those 
remaining  opened  fire  upon  us,  but  in  a  half- 
hearted way,  that  was  not  calculated  to  in- 
flict much  loss.  Many  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  town  lived  in  burrows  in  the  hillsides. 
Some  of  these  caves  had  been  filled  with  am- 


WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

munition.  The  enemy  had  fired  all  their 
dumps,  and  rocks  were  flying  about.  We  en- 
deavored to  save  as  much  of  the  material  as 
was  possible.  We  were  particularly  anxious  to 
get  all  papers  dealing  with  the  Arabs,  to  enable 
us  to  check  up  which  were  our  friends  and  which 
of  the  ones  behind  our  lines  were  dealing  treach- 
erously with  us.  We  recaptured  a  lot  of  med- 
ical equipment  and  some  ammunition  that 
had  been  taken  from  our  forces  during  the 
Gallipoli  campaign. 

Haditha  is  thirty-five  miles  from  Khan  Bagh- 
dadi,  and  Ana  is  an  equal  distance  beyond. 
It  was  decided  that  we  should  push  on  to  a 
big  bridge  shown  on  the  map  as  eight  miles 
this  side  of  Ana.  We  were  to  endeavor  to 
secure  this  before  the  Turks  could  destroy  it, 
and  cross  over  to  bivouac  on  the  far  side.  The 
road  was  in  fair  shape.  Many  of  the  small 
bridges  were  of  recent  construction.  We  soon 
found  that  our  map  was  exceedingly  inaccurate. 
Our  aeroplanes  were  doing  a  lot  of  damage  to 
the  fleeing  Turks,  and  as  we  began  to  catch  up 
with  larger  groups  we  had  some  sharp  engage- 
ments. The  desert  Arabs  hovered  like  vultures 
in  the  distance  waiting  for  nightfall  to  cover 
them  in  their  looting. 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  113 

That  night  we  camped  near  the  bridge.  At 
dusk  the  Red  Cross  ambulances  and  some 
cavalry  caught  up.  The  latter  had  had  a  long, 
hard  two  days,  with  little  to  eat  for  the  men 
and  less  for  the  horses,  but  both  were  standing 
up  wonderfully.  They  were  the  Seventh  Hus- 
sars and  just  as  they  reached  us  we  recaptured 
one  of  their  sergeants  who  had  been  made 
prisoner  on  the  previous  night.  He  had  cov- 
ered forty  miles  on  foot,  but  the  Turks  had 
treated  him  decently  and  he  had  come  through 
in  good  shape.  We  always  felt  that  the  Turk 
was  a  clean  fighter.  Our  officers  he  treated 
well  as  long  as  he  had  anything  to  give  or  share 
with  them.  With  the  enlisted  men  he  was  not 
so  considerate,  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
it  was  because  he  was  not  accustomed  to  bother 
his  head  much  about  his  own  rank  and  file,  so 
it  never  occurred  to  him  to  consider  ours. 
The  Turkish  private  would  thrive  on  what  was 
starvation  issue  to  our  men.  The  attitude  of 
many  of  the  Turkish  officers  was  amusing,  if  ex- 
asperating. They  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted 
that  they  would  be  treated  with  every  consid- 
eration due  an  honored  guest.  They  would 
complain  bitterly  about  not  being  supplied 
with  coffee,  although  at  the  time  we  might  be 


114    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

totally  without  it  ourselves  and  far  from  any 
source  of  supply.  The  German  prisoners  were 
apt  to  cringe  at  first,  but  as  soon  as  they  found 
they  were  not  to  be  oppressed  became  arrogant 
and  overbearing.  At  different  times  we  re- 
took men  that  had  been  captives  for  varying 
lengths  of  time.  I  remember  a  Tommy,  from 
the  Manchesters,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  who 
had  been  taken  before  Kut  fell,  but  had  soon 
after  made  his  escape  and  lived  among  the 
Kurdish  tribesmen  for  seven  or  eight  months 
before  he  found  his  way  back  to  us.  Quite  a 
number  of  Indians  who  had  been  set  to  work 
on  the  construction  of  the  Berlin-to-Baghdad 
Railway  between  Nisibin  and  Mosul  made 
good  their  escape  and  struggled  through  to 
our  lines. 

It  was  a  great  relief  when  the  Red  Cross 
lorries  came  in  and  we  could  turn  over  the 
wounded  to  them.  All  night  long  they  jour- 
neyed back  and  forth  transporting  such  as 
could  stand  the  trip  to  the  main  evacuation 
camp  at  Haditha. 

By  daybreak  we  were  once  more  under  way. 
Under  cover  of  darkness  the  Arabs  had  pillaged 
the  abandoned  supplies,  in  some  cases  killing 
the  wounded  Turks.  The  transport  animals 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  115 

of  the  enemy  and  their  cavalry  horses  were  in 
very  bad  shape.  They  had  evidently  been 
hard  put  to  it  to  bring  through  sufficient  fodder 
during  the  wet  winter  months  when  the  roads 
were  so  deep  in  mud  as  to  be  all  but  impassable. 
Instead  of  being  distant  from  Ana  the  eight 
miles  that  we  had  measured  on  the  map,  we 
found  that  we  were  seventeen,  but  we  made  it 
without  any  serious  hindrance.  The  town  was 
most  attractive,  embowered  in  gardens  which 
skirt  the  river's  edge  for  a  distance  of  four  or 
five  miles.  In  addition  to  the  usual  palms  and 
fruit-trees  there  were  great  gnarled  olives,  the 
first  I  had  seen  in  Mesopotamia,  as  were  also 
the  almond-trees.  It  must  be  of  great  antiq- 
uity, for  the  prophet  Isaiah  speaks  of  it  as 
a  place  where  kings  had  reigned,  but  from 
which,  even  in  his  time,  the  grandeur  had  de- 
parted. 

The  greater  part  of  the  enemy  had  already 
abandoned  the  town,  but  we  captured  the  Turk- 
ish governor  and  a  good  number  of  the  garrison, 
and  many  that  had  escaped  from  Haditha. 
The  disaster  at  Khan  Baghdadi  had  only  been 
reported  the  afternoon  before,  as  we  had  of 
course  cut  all  the  telegraph  wires,  and  the 
governor  had  not  thought  it  possible  we  would 


116    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

continue  the  pursuit  so  far.  He  had  spent 
most  of  his  life  in  Hungary  and  had  been  given 
this  post  only  a  few  months  previous  to  our 
advance.  From  the  prisoners  we  had  taken  at 
Haditha  we  had  extracted  conflicting  estimates 
as  to  the  time  when  Colonel  Tennant,  the 
commander  of  our  air  forces,  had  been  sent  on, 
and  from  those  we  took  at  Ana  we  received 
equally  varying  accounts.  The  cars  had  been 
ordered  to  push  on  in  search  of  the  colonel  as 
long  as  sufficient  gasolene  remained  to  bring 
them  back.  Captain  Todd  with  the  Eighth 
Battery  was  in  the  lead  when  some  thirty  miles 
north  of  Ana  they  caught  sight  of  a  group  of 
camels  surrounded  by  horsemen.  A  couple  of 
belts  from  the  machine-guns  scattered  the 
escort,  and  Colonel  Tennant  and  his  compan- 
ion, Major  Hobart,  were  soon  safe  in  the  tur- 
ret of  one  of  the  cars. 

From  some  of  our  Turkish  captives  we 
heard  about  a  large  gold  convoy  which  had  been 
sent  back  from  Ana;  some  said  one  day,  and 
others  two,  before  our  arrival.  The  supply  of 
fuel  that  we  had  brought  in  the  tenders  was 
almost  exhausted,  so  that  it  would  be  necessary 
to  procure  more  in  order  to  continue  the  pur- 
suit. Major  Thompson,  who  was  in  command 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  117 

of  the  armored-car  detachment,  instructed  me 
to  take  all  the  tenders  and  go  back  as  far  as 
was  necessary  to  find  a  petrol  dump  from  which 
I  could  draw  a  thousand  gallons.  I  emptied 
the  trucks  and  loaded  them  with  such  of  the 
wounded  as  could  stand  the  jolting  they  were 
bound  to  receive  because  of  the  speed  at  which 
I  must  travel.  I  also  took  a  few  of  the  more 
important  prisoners,  among  them  the  governor 
of  Ana.  He  was  a  cultivated  middle-aged 
man  who  spoke  no  Arabic  but  quite  good 
French.  It  was  mid-afternoon  when  we  started, 
and  I  hadn't  the  most  remote  idea  where  I 
would  find  a  sufficient  quantity  of  petrol.  Dur- 
ing the  run  back  we  were  sniped  at  occasionally 
by  Turks  who  were  still  hiding  in  the  hills.  A 
small  but  determined  force  could  have  com- 
pletely halted  the  cars  in  a  number  of  different 
places  where  the  road  wound  through  narrow 
rock-crowned  gorges,  or  along  ledges  cut  in 
the  hillside  and  hemmed  in  by  the  river.  In 
such  spots  the  advance  of  the  armored  cars 
could  either  have  been  completely  checked,  or 
at  all  events  seriously  hampered  and  delayed, 
merely  by  rolling  great  boulders  down  on  top 
of  us. 

When  we  had  retraced  our  steps  for  about 


118    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

sixty  miles  I  was  lucky  enough  to  get  wind  of 
an  enemy  petrol  dump  that  our  men  had  dis- 
covered. It  was  a  special  aeroplane  supply 
and  the  colonel  of  the  infantry  regiment  who 
was  guarding  it  had  been  instructed  to  allow 
none  of  it  to  be  used  for  automobiles.  He 
showed  his  desire  to  co-operate  and  his  ability 
to  read  the  spirit  rather  than  the  letter  of  a 
command  by  letting  me  load  my  tenders.  The 
L.  A.  M.  batteries  were  well  regarded  and  we 
everywhere  encountered  a  willingness  to  meet 
us  more  than  half-way  and  aid  us  in  the  thou- 
sand and  one  points  that  make  so  much  dif- 
ference in  obtaining  results. 

By  the  time  that  we  had  everything  in  readi- 
ness for  our  return  run  it  was  long  after  dark 
and  the  men  were  exhausted.  I  managed  to 
get  some  tea,  but  naturally  no  sugar  or  milk. 
The  strong  steaming  brew  served  to  wash  down 
the  scanty  supply  of  cold  bully  beef.  Fortu- 
nately it  was  a  brilliant  starlit  night,  but  even 
so  it  was  difficult  to  avoid  ditches  and  washouts, 
and  the  road  seemed  interminable.  Not  long 
after  we  left  we  ran  into  a  couple  of  armored 
cars  that  had  been  detailed  to  bring  the  rescued 
aviators  back,  after  they  had  been  reoutfitted 
and  supplied  as  far  as  our  limited  resources 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  119 

would  permit.  During  the  halt  I  found  that 
my  sergeant  had  produced  from  somewhere  or 
other  an  emergency  rum  ration  which  he  was 
issuing.  An  old-army,  experienced  sergeant 
always  managed  to  hold  over  a  reserve  from 
former  issues  for  just  such  occasions  as  this, 
when  it  would  be  of  inestimable  value.  I  had 
been  driving  all  day  and  had  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulty in  keeping  awake.  Twice  I  dozed  off. 
Once  I  awakened  just  as  the  car  started  over 
the  edge  of  an  embankment;  the  other  time 
a  large  rock  in  the  road  brought  me  back  to 
the  world.  It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  morning 
when  we  wearily  crept  into  Ana. 

The  expedition  to  capture  the  gold  convoy 
was  to  start  at  four,  so  after  two  hours'  sleep 
I  bundled  into  one  of  the  Rolls-Royces  and 
the  column  swung  out  into  the  road.  Through 
the  mist  loomed  the  sinister,  businesslike  out- 
lines of  the  armored  car  ahead  of  me.  Captain 
Carr  of  the  Thirteenth  L.  A.  M.  B.'s*  was  in 
command  of  the  expedition.  Unless  we  were 
in  action  or  in  a  locality  where  we  momentarily 
expected  to  be  under  fire  from  rifle  or  machine- 
gun,  the  officer  commanding  the  car  and  his 
N.  C.  0.  stood  in  the  well  behind  the  turret, 

*  Light  Armored  Motor  Battery. 


120    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

steadying  themselves  with  leather  loops  riveted 
to  its  sides.  On  long  runs  the  tool-boxes  on 
either  side  of  the  well  formed  convenient  seats. 
When  the  car  became  engaged  the  crew  would 
get  inside,  pulling  the  steel  doors  shut.  The 
slits  through  which  the  driver  and  the  man 
next  him  looked  could  be  made  still  smaller 
when  the  firing  was  heavy,  and  the  peep-holes 
at  either  side  and  in  the  rear  had  slides  which 
could  be  closed.  The  largest  aperture  was  that 
around  the  tube  of  the  gun.  Splinters  of  lead 
came  in  continuously,  and  sometimes  chance 
directed  a  bullet  to  an  opening.  One  of  our 
drivers  was  shot  straight  through  the  head 
near  Ramadie.  The  bottom  of  the  car  was  of 
wood,  and  bullets  would  ricochet  up  through 
it,  but  to  have  had  it  made  of  steel  would  have 
added  too  much  weight.  The  large  gasolene- 
tank  behind  was  usually  protected  by  plating, 
but  even  so  was  fairly  vulnerable.  A  reserve- 
tank  holding  ten  gallons  was  built  inside  the 
turret.  We  almost  invariably  had  trouble 
with  the  feed-pipes  leading  from  it.  During 
the  great  heat  of  the  summer  the  inside  of  the 
turret  was  a  veritable  fiery  furnace,  with  the 
pedals  so  hot  that  they  scorched  the  feet. 

Forty  miles  above  Ana  we  came  upon  a  large 
khan.     These  road-houses  are  built  at  intervals 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  121 

along  the  main  caravan  routes.  Their  plan  is 
simple:  four  walls  with  two  tiers  of  rooms  or 
booths  built  into  them,  enclosing  an  open  court 
in  which  the  camels  and  horses  are  tethered 
during  the  night.  The  whole  is  strongly  made 
to  resist  the  inroads  of  the  desert  tribesmen. 
As  we  drove  to  the  heavy  gate,  a  wild  clamor 
met  our  ears  from  a  confused  jumble  of  Jewish 
and  Armenian  merchants  that  had  taken  refuge 
within.  Some  of  them  had  left  Ana  on  their 
way  to  Aleppo  before  the  news  of  the  fall  of 
Khan  Baghdadi  had  reached  the  town.  Others 
had  been  despatched  by  the  Turks  when  the 
news  of  our  advance  arrived.  All  had  been  to 
a  greater  or  lesser  degree  plundered  by  the 
Arabs.  Most  of  the  baggage  animals  had  been 
run  off,  and  the  merchants  were  powerless  to 
move.  The  women  were  weeping  and  implor- 
ing help,  and  the  children  tumbled  about  among 
the  confused  heaps  of  merchandise.  Some  of 
the  Armenians  had  relations  in  Baghdad  about 
whom  I  was  able  to  give  them  bits  of  informa- 
tion. All  begged  permission  to  go  back  to 
Ana  and  thence  to  the  capital.  We,  of  course, 
had  no  means  of  supplying  them  with  trans- 
portation, and  any  attempt  to  recapture  their 
lost  property  was  out  of  the  question. 

A  few  miles  on  we  made  out  a  troop  of  Arabs 


122    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

hurrying  inland,  a  mile  or  so  away  from  us, 
across  a  couple  of  ravines.  They  had  some  of 
the  stolen  camels  and  were  laden  down  with 
plunder.  Two  of  our  cars  made  a  fruitless  at- 
tempt to  come  to  terms  with  them,  but  only 
succeeded  in  placing  a  few  well-aimed  bursts 
from  then*  machine-guns  among  them. 

We  now  began  to  come  up  with  bands  of 
Turks.  We  ran  across  a  number  of  isolated 
stragglers  who  had  been  stripped  by  the  Arabs. 
A  few  had  been  killed.  They  as  a  rule  sur- 
rendered without  any  hesitation.  We  disarmed 
them  and  told  them  to  walk  back  toward  Ana. 
Several  times  we  had  short  engagements  with 
Turkish  cavalry.  As  a  general  thing  the  ground 
was  so  very  broken  up  that  it  was  impossible 
to  manoeuvre.  I  was  riding  a  good  deal  of 
the  time  in  the  Ford  tender  that  we  had  brought 
along  with  a  few  supplies,  and  when  one  of  the 
tires  blew  out  I  waited  behind  to  replace  it. 
The  armored  cars  had  quite  a  start  and  we 
raced  along  to  catch  them.  In  my  hurry  I 
failed  to  notice  that  they  had  left  the  road  in 
pursuit  of  a  troop  of  cavalry,  so  when  we 
sighted  a  large  square  building  of  the  sort  the 
Turks  use  as  barracks,  I  made  sure  that  the 
cars  had  been  there  before  me.  We  drove  up 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  123 

to  the  door  and  I  jumped  out  and  shoved  it 
open.  In  the  yard  were  some  infantry  and  a 
few  cavalry.  I  had  only  my  stick — my  Webley 
revolver  was  still  in  its  holster.  There  was 
nothing  to  do  but  put  on  a  bold  front,  so  I 
shouted  in  Arabic  to  the  man  I  took  to  be  the 
officer  in  command,  telling  him  to  surrender, 
and  trying  to  act  as  if  our  forces  were  just  out- 
side. I  think  he  must  have  been  more  sur- 
prised than  I  was,  for  he  did  so  immediately, 
turning  over  the  post  to  me.  Eldridge,  the 
Ford  driver,  had  succeeded  in  disengaging  the 
rifle  that  he  had  strapped  in  beside  him,  and 
we  made  the  rounds  under  the  escort  of  our 
captive. 

One  wing  of  the  post  was  used  as  a  hospital, 
under  the  charge  of  an  intelligent  little  Arme- 
nian. He  seemed  well  informed  about  the  war, 
and  asked  the  question  that  was  the  universal 
wail  of  all  the  Armenians  we  encountered: 
"When  would  Great  Britain  free  their  country, 
and  would  she  make  it  an  independent  state?" 
There  was  a  definite  limit  to  the  number  of 
prisoners  we  could  manage  to  carry  back,  but 
I  offered  the  doctor  to  include  him.  His  an- 
swer was  to  go  to  his  trunk  and  produce  a 
picture  of  his  wife  and  little  daughter.  They 


124    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

were,  he  told  me,  in  Constantinople,  and  it  was 
now  two  years  since  he  had  had  leave,  so  that 
as  his  turn  was  due,  he  would  wait  on  the 
chance  of  seeing  his  family. 

When  the  cars  came  up  we  set  off  again  in 
pursuit  of  the  elusive  gold  convoy.  We  could 
get  no  accurate  information  concerning  it. 
Some  said  it  was  behind,  others  ahead.  We 
never  ran  it  down.  It  may  well  be  that  it 
was  concealed  in  a  ravine  near  the  road  a 
few  yards  from  where  we  passed.  Just  short 
of  a  town  called  Abu  Kemal  we  caught  three 
Germans.  They  were  in  terror  when  we  took 
them,  and  afterward  said  that  they  had  ex- 
pected to  be  shot.  Under  decent  treatment 
they  soon  became  so  insolent  that  they  had  to 
be  brought  up  short. 

During  the  run  back  to  Ana  we  picked  up 
the  more  important  of  our  prisoners  and  took 
them  with  us.  Twenty-two  were  all  we  could 
manage.  I  was  running  one  of  the  big  cars. 
It  was  always  a  surprise  to  see  how  easy  they 
were  to  handle  in  spite  of  the  weight  of  the 
armor-plate.  We  each  took  great  pride  in 
the  car  in  which  we  generally  rode.  All  had 
names.  In  the  Fourteenth  one  section  had 
"Silver  Dart"  and  "Silver  Ghost"  and  another 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  125 

"Gray  Terror"  and  "  Gray  Knight."  The  car 
in  which  I  rode  a  great  deal  of  the  time  met  its 
fate  only  a  few  days  before  the  armistice, 
long  after  I  had  gone  to  France.  Two  direct 
hits  from  an  Austrian  "eighty-eight"  ended  its 
career. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  we  got  back  to 
our  camp  in  a  palm-garden  in  Ana.  Although 
we  had  not  succeeded  in  capturing  the  gold  con- 
voy, we  had  brought  in  a  number  of  valuable 
prisoners,  and  among  other  things  I  had  found 
some  papers  belonging  to  a  German  political 
agent  whom  we  had  captured.  These  con- 
tained much  information  about  the  Arab  situa- 
tion, and  through  them  it  was  all  but  proved 
that  the  German  was  the  direct  instigator  of 
the  murder  of  the  political  officer  at  Nejef. 
An  amusing  sidelight  was  thrown  in  the  letters 
addressed  by  Arab  sheiks  through  this  agent 
to  the  Kaiser  thanking  him  for  the  iron  crosses 
they  had  been  awarded.  There  must  have 
been  an  underlying  grim  humor  in  distributing 
crosses  to  the  Mohammedan  Arabs  in  recogni- 
tion of  their  efforts  to  withstand  the  advance 
into  the  Holy  Land  of  the  Christian  invaders. 

On  our  arrival  at  Ana  we  were  told  that 
orders  had  come  through  that  the  town  be 


126    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

evacuated  on  the  following  morning.  Prep- 
arations were  made  to  blow  up  the  ammuni- 
tion dump,  which  was  fortunately  concentrated 
in  a  series  of  buildings  that  joined  each  other. 
We  warned  the  inhabitants  and  advised  them 
to  hide  in  the  caves  along  the  hillsides.  We 
ourselves  went  back  to  the  camp  which  we 
had  occupied  near  the  bridge  the  night  before 
entering  Ana.  During  the  afternoon  Major 
Edye,  a  political  officer,  turned  up,  travelling 
alone  with  an  Arab  attendant.  He  pitched  his 
camp,  consisting  of  a  saddle  and  blanket,  close 
beside  us.  He  was  an  extraordinarily  interest- 
ing man,  with  a  great  gift  for  languages.  In  the 
course  of  a  year  or  so's  wandering  in  Abyssinia 
he  had  learned  both  ancient  and  modern  Abys- 
sinian. There  was  a  famous  German  Orientalist 
with  whom  he  corresponded  in  the  pre-war  days. 
He  had  mailed  him  a  letter  just  at  the  out- 
break, which,  written  in  ancient  Abyssinian, 
must  have  been  a  good  deal  of  a  puzzle  to  the 
censors. 

The  main  explosion,  taking  place  at  the  ap- 
pointed time,  was  succeeded  by  smaller  ones, 
which  continued  at  gradually  lengthening  inter- 
vals throughout  the  night.  General  Cassels, 
who  had  commanded  the  cavalry  brigade  so 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  127 

ably  throughout  the  advance,  wished  to  return 
to  Ana  on  the  following  morning  in  order  to 
check  up  the  thoroughness  with  which  the 
dump  had  been  destroyed.  He  took  an  escort 
of  armored  cars,  and  as  I  was  the  only  one  in 
the  batteries  who  could  speak  Arabic,  my  ser- 
vices were  requisitioned.  As  we  approached 
the  town  the  rattle  of  the  small-arms  ammuni- 
tion sounded  like  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration. 
The  general  noticed  that  I  had  a  kodak  and 
asked  me  to  go  out  into  the  dump  and  take 
some  photographs.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
but  put  on  a  bold  front,  but  I  have  spent  hap- 
pier moments  than  those  in  which  I  edged  my 
way  gingerly  over  the  smoking  heaps  to  a 
ruined  wall  from  which  I  could  get  a  good  view 
for  my  camera.  As  I  came  back  a  large  shell 
exploded  and  we  hastily  moved  the  cars  farther 
away. 

I  went  to  the  mayor's  house  to  find  out  how 
the  town  had  fared.  He  was  a  solemn  old 
Arab,  and  showed  me  the  damage  done  by  the 
shells  with  an  absolutely  expressionless  face. 
The  houses  within  a  fair  radius  had  been  rid- 
dled, but  the  natives  had  taken  our  warning 
and  no  one  had  been  killed.  After  a  cup  of 
coffee  in  a  lovely  garden  on  the  river-bank, 


128    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

I  came  back  to  the  cars  and  we  ran  on  through 
to  Haditha.  Here  we  were  to  remain  for  a 
week  or  ten  days  to  permit  the  evacuation  of 
the  captured  supplies. 

Thus  far  we  had  been  having  good  luck  with 
the  weather,  but  it  now  began  to  threaten  rain. 
We  crawled  beneath  the  cars  with  our  blankets 
and  took  such  precautions  as  were  possible, 
but  it  availed  us  little  when  a  veritable  hurri- 
cane blew  up  at  midnight.  I  was  washed  out 
from  under  my  car,  but  before  dark  I  had 
marked  down  a  deserted  hut,  and  thither  I 
groped  my  way.  Although  it  was  abandoned 
by  the  Arabs,  living  traces  of  their  occupancy 
remained.  Still,  even  that  was  preferable  to 
the  rain,  and  the  roof  proved  unexpectedly 
water-tight. 

All  next  day  the  storm  continued.  The 
Wadi  Hauran,  a  large  ravine  reaching  back 
into  the  desert  for  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles, 
became  a  boiling  torrent.  When  we  crossed 
over,  it  was  as  dry  as  a  bone.  A  heavy  lorry 
on  which  an  anti-aircraft  gun  was  mounted 
had  been  swirled  away  and  smashed  to  bits. 
The  ration  question  had  been  difficult  all  along, 
but  now  any  further  supply  was  temporarily 
out  of  the  question. 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  129 

Oddly  enough,  I  was  the  only  member  of  the 
brigade  occupying  Haditha  who  could  speak 
enough  Arabic  to  be  of  any  use,  so  I  was  sent 
to  look  up  the  local  mayor  to  see  whether  there 
was  any  food  to  be  purchased.  The  town  is 
built  on  a  long  island  equidistant  from  either 
bank.  We  ferried  across  in  barges.  The  na- 
tive method  was  simpler.  They  inflated  goat- 
skins, removed  their  clothes,  which  they  had 
fastened  in  a  bundle  on  top  of  their  heads,  and 
with  one  hand  on  the  goatskin  they  paddled 
and  drifted  over.  By  starting  from  the  head  of 
the  island  they  could  reach  the  shore  opposite 
the  down-stream  end.  The  bobbing  heads  of 
the  dignified  old  graybeards  of  the  community 
looked  most  ludicrous.  On  landing  they  would 
solemnly  don  their  clothes,  deflate  the  skins, 
and  go  their  way. 

The  mayor  proved  both  intelligent  and  agree- 
able. The  food  situation  was  such  that  it  was 
obviously  impossible  for  him  to  offer  us  any 
serious  help.  We  held  a  conclave  in  the  guest- 
house, sitting  cross-legged  among  the  cushions. 
In  the  centre  a  servant  roasted  coffee-beans  on 
the  large  shovel-spoon  that  they  use  for  that 
purpose.  The  representative  village  worthies 
impressed  me  greatly.  The  desert  Arabs  are 


130    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

always  held  to  be  vastly  superior  to  their  kins- 
men of  the  town,  and  it  is  undoubtedly  true  as 
a  general  rule;  nevertheless,  the  elders  of  Hadi- 
tha  were  an  unusually  fine  group  of  men.  We 
got  a  few  eggs,  which  were  a  most  desirable 
luxury  after  a  steady  diet  of  black  unsweetened 
tea  and  canned  beef.  We  happened  to  have  a 
sufficient  supply  of  tea  to  permit  us  to  make  an 
appreciated  gift  to  the  village. 

My  shoes  had  collapsed  a  few  days  before 
and  I  borrowed  a  pair  from  a  Turk  who  had  nc 
further  use  for  them.  These  were  several  sizes 
too  large  and  fashioned  in  an  oblong  shape  of 
mathematical  exactness.  Even  in  the  motor 
machine-gun  service,  there  is  little  that  exceeds 
one's  shoes  in  importance,  and  I  was  looking 
forward  with  almost  equal  eagerness  to  a  square 
meal  and  a  pair  of  my  own  shoes.  The  supply 
of  reading-matter  had  fallen  very  low.  I  had 
only  Disraeli's  Tancred,  about  which  I  found 
myself  unable  to  share  Lady  Burton's  feelings, 
and  a  French  account  of  a  voyage  from  Bagh- 
dad to  Aleppo  in  1808.  The  author,  Louis 
Jacques  Rousseau,  a  cousin  of  the  great  Jean 
Jacques,  belonged  to  a  family  of  noted  Orien- 
talists. Born  in  Persia,  and  married  to  the 
daughter  of  the  Dutch  consul-general  to  that 


ON  THE  EUPHRATES  131 

country,  he  was  admirably  equipped  for  the 
distinguished  diplomatic  career  that  lay  be- 
fore him  in  the  East  and  in  northern  Africa. 
His  treatises  on  the  archaeological  remains  that 
he  met  with  on  his  many  voyages  are  intel- 
ligent and  thorough.  The  river  towns  have 
changed  but  little  in  the  last  hundred  years, 
and  the  sketch  of  Hit  might  have  been  made 
only  yesterday. 

Within  three  days  after  the  rise,  the  waters 
of  the  Wadi  Hauran  subsided  sufficiently  for 
us  to  cross,  and  I  received  orders  to  return  to 
Baghdad.  The  rain  had  brought  about  a 
change  in  the  desert  since  we  passed  through 
on  our  way  up.  The  lines  of  Paterson,  the 
Australian  poet,  kept  running  through  my  head: 

"  For  the  rain  and  drought  and  sunshine  make  no  changes 

in  the  street, 
In  the  sullen  Hue  of  buildings  and  the  ceaseless  tramp 

of  feet, 
But  the  bush  hath  moods  and  changes,  as  the  seasons 

rise  and  fall, 
And  the  men  who  know  the  bushland  they  are  loyal 

through  it  all." 

The  formerly  arid  floor  of  the  desert  was  car- 
peted with  a  soft  green,  with  myriads  of  lit- 
tle flowers,  all  small,  but  delicately  fashioned. 


132    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

There  were  poppies,  dwarf  daisies,  expanses  of 
buttercups,  forget-me-nots,  and  diminutive  red 
flowers  whose  name  I  did  not  know.  It  started 
raining  again,  and  we  only  just  succeeded  in 
winning  our  way  through  to  Baghdad  before 
the  road  became  impassable. 


VI 

Baghdad  Sketches 


VI 

BAGHDAD  SKETCHES 

Although  never  in  Baghdad  for  long  at  a 
time,  I  generally  had  occasion  to  spend  four 
or  five  days  there  every  other  month.  The 
life  in  any  city  is  complex  and  interesting,  but 
here  it  was  especially  so.  We  were  among  a 
totally  foreign  people,  but  the  ever-felt  intangi- 
ble barrier  of  color  was  not  present.  For  many 
of  the  opportunities  to  mingle  with  the  natives 
I  was  indebted  to  Oscar  Heizer,  the  American 
consul.  Mr.  Heizer  has  been  twenty-five 
years  in  the  Levant,  the  greater  part  of  which 
time  he  has  spent  in  the  neighborhood  of  Con- 
stantinople. The  outbreak  of  the  war  found 
him  stationed  at  one  of  the  principal  ports  of 
the  Black  Sea.  There  he  witnessed  part  of  the 
terrible  Armenian  massacres,  when  vast  herds 
of  the  wretched  people  were  driven  inland  to 
perish  of  starvation  by  the  roadsides.  Quiet 
and  unassuming,  but  ever  ready  to  act  with 
speed  and  decision,  he  was  a  universal  favorite 
with  native  and  foreigner  alike. 

135 


136    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

With  him  I  used  to  ferry  across  the  river  for 
tea  with  the  Asadulla  Khan,  the  Persian  con- 
sul. The  house  consisted  of  three  wings  built 
around  a  garden.  The  fourth  side  was  the 
river-bank.  The  court  was  a  jungle  of  flower- 
ing fruit-trees,  alive  with  birds  of  different 
kinds,  all  singing  garrulously  without  pause. 
There  we  would  sit  sipping  sherbet,  and  crack- 
ing nuts,  among  which  salted  watermelon  seeds 
figured  prominently.  Coffee  and  sweets  of 
many  and  devious  kinds  were  served,  with 
arrack  and  Scotch  whiskey  for  those  who  had 
no  religious  scruples.  The  Koran's  injunction 
against  strong  drink  was  not  very  conscien- 
tiously observed  by  the  majority,  and  even 
those  who  did  not  drink  in  public,  rarely  ab- 
stained in  private.  Only  the  very  conservative 
— and  these  were  more  often  to  be  found  in  the 
smaller  towns — rigorously  obeyed  the  prophet's 
commands.  It  was  pleasant  to  smoke  in  the 
shade  and  watch  the  varied  river-craft  slipping 
by.  The  public  bellams  plied  to  and  fro,  rowed 
by  the  swart  owners,  while  against  them  jostled 
the  gufas — built  like  the  coracles  of  ancient 
Britain — a  round  basket  coated  with  pitch. 
No  Anglo-Saxon  can  see  them  without  think- 
ing of  the  nursery  rhyme  of  the  "wise  men  of 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  137 

Gotham  who  went  to  sea  in  a  tub."  These 
gufas  were  some  of  them  twenty-five  feet  in 
diameter,  and  carried  surprising  loads — some- 
times sheep  and  cattle  alone — sometimes  men 
and  women — often  both  indiscriminately  min- 
gled. Propelling  a  gufa  was  an  art  in  itself,  for 
in  the  hands  of  the  uninitiated  it  merely  spun 
around  without  advancing  a  foot  in  the  de- 
sired direction.  The  natives  used  long  round- 
bladed  paddles,  and  made  good  time  across 
the  river.  Crossing  over  in  one  was  a  demo- 
cratic affair,  especially  when  the  women  were 
returning  from  market  with  knots  of  struggling 
chickens  slung  over  their  shoulders. 

Asadulla  Khan's  profile  always  reminded  me 
of  an  Inca  idol  that  I  once  got  in  Peru.  Among 
his  scribes  were  several  men  of  culture  who 
discoursed  most  sagely  on  Persian  literature; 
on  Sadi  and  Hafiz,  both  of  whom  they  held  to 
be  superior  to  Omar  Khayyam.  I  tried  through 
many  channels  to  secure  a  manuscript  of  the 
"Rubaiyat,"  but  all  I  succeeded  hi  obtaining 
was  a  lithograph  copy  with  no  place  or  date  of 
publication;  merely  the  remark  that  it  had 
been  printed  during  the  cold  months.  I  was 
told  that  the  writings  of  Omar  Khayyam  were 
regarded  as  immoral  and  for  that  reason  were 


138   WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

not  to  be  found  in  religious  households.  My 
Persian  friends  would  quote  at  length  from 
Sadi's  Gulistan  or  Rose  Garden,  and  go  into 
raptures  over  its  beauty. 

Below  the  consulate  was  a  landing-place,  and 
when  we  were  ready  to  leave  we  would  go  down 
to  the  river-bank  preceded  by  our  servants 
carrying  lanterns.  They  would  call  "Abu 
bellam"  until  a  boat  appeared.  The  term 
"abu"  always  amused  me.  Its  literal  meaning 
is  "father."  In  the  bazaars  a  shop-owner  was 
always  hailed  as  "father"  of  whatever  wares 
he  had  for  sale.  I  remember  one  fat  old  man 
who  sold  porous  earthenware  jars — customers 
invariably  addressed  him  as  "Abu  hub" — 
"Father  of  water-coolers." 

My  best  friend  among  the  natives  was  a 
Kurdish  chief  named  Hamdi  Bey  Baban.  His 
father  had  been  captured  and  taken  to  Con- 
stantinople. After  living  there  a  number  of 
years  in  semicaptivity  he  died — by  poison  it 
was  said.  Hamdi  was  not  allowed  to  return  to 
Kurdistan  until  after  he  was  a  grown  man  and 
had  almost  forgotten  his  native  language.  He 
spoke  and  read  both  French  and  English. 
Eventually  permission  was  granted  him  to  live 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  139 

in  Baghdad  as  long  as  he  kept  out  of  the  Kur- 
dish hills,  so  he  set  off  by  motor  accompanied 
only  by  a  French  chauffeur.  Gasolene  was  sent 
ahead  by  camel  caravan  to  be  left  for  him  at 
selected  points.  The  journey  was  not  without 
incident,  for  the  villagers  had  never  before  seen 
an  automobile  and  regarded  it  as  a  devil; 
often  stones  were  thrown  at  them,  and  on  one 
occasion  they  were  mobbed  and  Hamdi  only 
escaped  by  driving  full  speed  through  the 
crowd. 

His  existence  in  Baghdad  had  been  subject 
to  sudden  upheavals.  Once  he  was  arrested 
and  convoyed  back  to  Constantinople;  and 
just  before  the  advance  of  the  British  his  life 
was  in  great  danger.  Naturally  enough  he 
had  little  love  for  the  Turk  and  staked  every- 
thing on  the  final  victory  of  the  Allies. 

He  intended  writing  a  book  on  the  history  of 
his  family,  in  which  he  was  much  interested. 
For  material  he  was  constantly  purchasing 
books  and  manuscripts.  In  the  East  many 
well-known  histories  still  exist  only  in  manu- 
script form,  and  when  a  man  wishes  to  build 
up  a  library  he  engages  scribes  and  sends  them 
to  the  place  where  a  famous  manuscript  is  kept 
with  an  order  to  make  a  copy.  In  the  same 


140    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

way  Hamdi  Bey  had  men  busied  transcribing 
rare  chronicles  dealing  with  the  career  of  his 
family — extant  in  but  one  or  two  examples  in 
mosques.  He  once  presented  me  with  a  large 
manuscript  in  Persian  in  which  his  family  is 
mentioned,  the  mention  taking  the  form  of  a 
statement  to  the  effect  that  seventeen  of  them 
had  had  their  heads  removed ! 

Next  to  various  small  tradesmen  with  whom 
I  used  to  gossip,  drink  coffee,  and  play  dom- 
inoes, my  best  Arab  friend  was  Abdul  Kader 
Pasha,  a  striking  old  man  who  had  been  a 
faithful  ally  to  the  British  through  thick  and 
thin.  The  dinners  at  his  house  on  the  river- 
bank  were  feasts  such  as  one  reads  of  in  an- 
cient history.  Course  succeeded  course  with- 
out any  definite  plan;  any  one  of  them  would 
have  made  a  large  and  delicious  meal  in  itself. 
True  to  Arab  custom,  the  son  of  the  house 
never  sat  down  at  table  with  his  father,  al- 
though before  and  after  dinner  he  talked  and 
smoked  with  us. 

I  had  a  number  of  good  friends  among  the 
Armenians.  There  was  not  one  of  them  but 
had  some  near  relation,  frequently  a  parent 
or  a  brother  or  sister,  still  among  the  Turks. 
Sometimes  they  knew  them  to  be  dead,  more 


A  jeweller's  booth  in  the  bazaar 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  141 

frequently  they  could  only  hope  that  such  was 
the  case  and  there  was  no  further  suffering  to 
be  endured.  Many  of  these  Armenians  be- 
longed to  prominent  families,  numbering  among 
their  members  men  who  had  held  the  most 
important  government  posts  in  Constanti- 
nople. The  secretary  of  the  treasury  was 
almost  invariably  an  Armenian,  for  the  race 
outstrips  the  Jews  in  its  money  touch. 

With  one  family  I  dined  quite  often — the 
usual  interminable  Oriental  feast  varying  only 
from  the  Arab  or  Turkish  dinners  in  a  few  spe- 
cial national  dishes.  All,  excepting  the  aged 
grandmother,  spoke  French,  and  the  daughters 
had  a  thorough  grounding  in  the  literature. 
Such  English  books  as  they  knew  they  had 
read  in  French  translations.  The  house  was 
attractively  furnished,  with  really  beautiful 
rugs  and  old  silverware.  The  younger  genera- 
tion played  bridge,  and  the  girls  were  always 
well  dressed  in  European  fashion.  Whence  the 
clothes  came  was  a  mystery,  for  nothing  could 
have  been  brought  in  since  the  war,  and  even 
in  ante-bellum  days  foreign  clothes  of  that 
grade  could  never  have  been  stocked  but  must 
have  been  imported  in  individual  orders.  The 
evenings  were  thoroughly  enjoyable,  for  every- 


142    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

thing  was  In  such  marked  contrast  to  our 
every-day  life.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
these  few  Armenians  were  the  only  women  with 
whom  we  could  talk  and  laugh  in  Occidental 
fashion. 

By  far  the  best-informed  and  cleverest  Arab 
was  Pere  Anastase.  He  was  a  Catholic,  and 
under  the  supervision  of  the  Political  De- 
partment edited  the  local  Arab  paper.  All  his 
life  he  had  worked  building  up  a  library — 
gathering  rare  books  throughout  Syria  and 
Mesopotamia.  He  was  himself  an  author  of 
no  small  reputation.  Just  before  the  British 
took  Baghdad  the  Germans  pillaged  his  col- 
lection, sending  the  more  valuable  books  to 
Constantinople  and  Berlin,  and  turning  the 
rest  over  to  the  populace.  The  soldiers  made 
great  bonfires  of  many — others  found  their 
way  to  the  bazaars,  where  he  was  later  able  to 
repurchase  some  of  them.  When  talking  of  the 
sacking  of  his  house,  Pere  Anastase  would  work 
himself  into  a  white  heat  of  fury  and  his  eyes 
would  flash  as  he  bitterly  cursed  the  vandals 
who  had  destroyed  his  treasures. 

It  was  in  Baghdad  that  I  first  ran  into  Major 
E.  B.  Soane,  whose  Through  Mesopotamia  and 
Kurdistan  in  Disguise  is  a  classic.  Soane  was 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  143 

born  in  southern  France,  his  mother  French 
and  his  father  English.  The  latter  walked 
across  the  United  States  from  ocean  to  ocean 
in  the  early  forties,  so  Soane  came  by  his  rov- 
ing, adventurous  spirit  naturally.  When  still 
but  little  more  than  a  boy  he  went  out  to  work 
in  the  Anglo-Persian  Bank,  and  immediately 
interested  himself  in  the  language  and  litera- 
ture of  the  country.  Some  of  his  holidays  he 
spent  in  the  British  Museum  translating  and 
cataloguing  Persian  manuscripts.  Becoming 
interested  in  the  Kurds,  he  spent  a  number  of 
years  among  them,  learning  their  languages 
and  customs  and  joining  in  their  raids. 

As  soon  as  we  got  a  foothold  in  the  Kurdish 
Hills,  Soane  was  sent  up  to  administer  the  cap- 
tured territory.  His  headquarters  were  at 
Khanikin,  twenty-five  miles  from  Kizil  Robat 
and  but  a  short  distance  from  the  Persian  fron- 
tier. One  morning  during  the  time  that  I  was 
stationed  in  that  district  I  motored  over  to  see 
him.  It  was  a  glorious  day.  The  cloud  effects 
were  most  beautiful,  towering  in  billows  of 
white  above  the  snow  peaks,  against  a  back- 
ground of  deepest  blue.  The  road  wound  in 
and  out  among  the  barren  foot-hills  until  sud- 
denly as  I  topped  a  rise  I  saw  right  below  a 


great  clump  of  palm-trees,  with  houses  showing 
through  here  and  there — the  whole  divided  by 
a  lovely  river  bestridden  by  an  old  seven-arch 
bridge.  I  picked  my  way  through  the  narrow 
streets,  scattering  ragged  Kurds  right  and  left; 
past  part  of  the  covered  bazaar,  until  I  came 
.to  a  house  with  a  large  courtyard,  thronged 
with  a  motley  array  of  Kurdish  irregulars, 
armed  with  every  sort  of  weapon.  It  was  there 
that  Soane  administered  his  stern  but  prac- 
tical justice,  for  he  thoroughly  understood  how 
to  handle  these  men. 

The  district  had  suffered  fearfully,  for  it  had 
been  occupied  in  turn  by  Turk  and  Russian, 
and  then  Turk  again,  before  we  took  it  over, 
and  the  unfortunate  natives  had  been  pillaged 
and  robbed  mercilessly.  Thousands  starved  to 
death.  When  I  was  at  Deli  Abbas  ghastly 
bands  of  ragged  skeletons  would  come  through 
to  us  begging  food  and  work.  Soane  turned  a 
large  khan  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  into  a 
poorhouse,  and  here  he  lodged  the  starving 
women  and  children  that  drifted  in  from  all 
over  Kurdistan.  It  was  a  fearful  assemblage 
of  scarecrows.  As  they  got  better  he  selected 
women  from  among  them  to  whom  he  turned 
over  the  administration  of  the  khan.  They 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  145 

divided  the  unfortunates  in  gangs,  and  super- 
vised the  issue  of  dates  on  which  they  were  fed. 
Such  as  were  physically  able  were  employed 
in  cleaning  the  town.  The  Kurds  are  a  fine, 
self-respecting  race  and  it  was  easy  to  under- 
stand Soane's  enthusiasm  for  them. 

In  Baghdad  you  lived  either  in  the  cellars 
or  on  the  housetops.  The  former  were  called 
serdabs.  A  large  chimney,  cowled  to  face  the 
prevailing  wind,  served  for  ventilation,  and  on 
the  hottest  days  one  was  cool  and  comfortable. 
We  slept  on  the  roofs,  and  often  dined  there, 
too.  Since  the  town  was  the  General  Head- 
quarters of  the  Expeditionary  Force,  one  was 
always  sure  to  meet  many  friends.  A  com- 
fortable and  well-run  officers'  club  was  in- 
stalled, as  well  as  warrant  officers'  and  en- 
listed men's  clubs. 

Occasionally  race  meetings  were  planned  and 
the  various  divisions  would  send  representa- 
tives. Frank  Wooton,  the  well-known  jockey, 
was  a  despatch-rider,  and  usually  succeeded  in 
getting  leave  enough  to  allow  him  to  ride  some 
general's  horses.  An  Arab  race  formed  part  of 
the  programme.  Once  a  wild  tribesman  who 
had  secured  a  handsome  lead  almost  lost  the 


146    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

race  by  taking  off  his  cloak  and  waving  it 
round  his  head  as  he  gave  ear-piercing  shouts 
of  triumph.  The  Arab  riding  second  was  less 
emotional  and  attended  better  to  the  business 
in  hand,  but  his  horse  was  not  quite  good 
enough  to  make  the  difference. 

The  scene  at  the  race-course  was  a  gay  one. 
The  color  was  chiefly  contributed  by  the  Jew- 
esses who  wore  their  hooded  silk  cloaks  of 
lively  hue — green  or  pink  or  yellow.  The  only 
crowd  that  I  saw  to  vie  with  it  was  one  which 
watched  the  prisoners  taken  at  Ramadie  march 
through  the  town.  Turkish  propaganda,  cir- 
culated in  the  bazaars,  gave  out  that  instead 
of  taking  the  prisoners  we  claimed,  we  had  in 
reality  suffered  a  defeat,  and  it  was  decided 
that  the  sight  of  the  captive  Turks  would  have 
a  salutary  effect  upon  the  townsmen.  Looking 
down  from  a  housetop  the  red  fezzes  and  the 
gay-colored  abas  made  the  crowd  look  like  a 
vast  field  of  poppies. 

When  I  was  at  Samarra  an  amusing  incident 
took  place  in  connection  with  a  number  of 
officers'  wives  who  were  captured  at  Ramadie. 
The  army  commander  didn't  wish  to  ship  them 
off  to  India  and  Burma  with  their  husbands, 
so  he  sent  them  up  to  Samarra  with  instruc- 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  147 

tions  that  they  be  returned  across  the  lines  to 
the  Turks.  After  many  aeroplane  messages 
were  exchanged  it  was  agreed  that  we  should 
leave  them  at  a  designated  hill  and  that  the 
Turks  would  later  come  for  them.  Meanwhile 
we  had  arranged  quarters  for  them,  trying  to 
do  everything  in  a  manner  that  would  be  in 
harmony  with  the  Turkish  convenances.  When 
the  wives  were  escorted  forth  to  be  turned 
back  to  their  countrymen,  they  were  all  weep- 
ing bitterly.  Whether  it  was  that  the  Turk 
in  his  casual  manner  decided  that  one  day 
was  as  good  as  another,  or  whether  he  felt 
that  he  had  no  particular  use  for  these  par- 
ticular women,  we  never  knew,  but  at  all 
events  twenty-four  hours  later  one  of  our  pa- 
trols came  upon  the  prisoners  still  forlornly 
waiting.  We  shipped  them  back  to  Baghdad. 
Occasionally  I  would  go  to  one  of  the  Arab 
theatres.  The  plays  were  generally  burlesques, 
for  the  Arab  has  a  keen  sense  of  humor  and 
greatly  appreciates  a  joke.  Most  of  the  puns 
were  too  involved  for  me  to  follow,  but  there 
was  always  a  certain  amount  of  slap-stick 
comedy  that  could  be  readily  understood. 
Then  there  was  dancing — as  a  whole  monoto- 
nous and  mediocre;  but  there  was  one  old  man 


148    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

who  was  a  remarkable  performer,  and  would 
have  been  appreciated  on  any  stage  in  the 
world.  The  topical  songs  invariably  amused 
me — they  were  so  universal  in  spirit.  The 
chorus  of  one  which  was  a  great  hit  ran: 
"Haido,  haido,  rahweni  passak!"  "I  say,  I 
say,  show  me  your  pass."  There  had  been 
much  trouble  with  spies  and  every  one  was 
required  to  provide  himself  with  a  certificate 
of  good  conduct  and  to  show  it  on  demand. 
It  was  to  this  that  the  song  referred. 

Captain  C.  G.  Lloyd  was  my  companion  on 
many  rambles  among  the  natives.  He  had 
been  stationed  in  Burma  and  India  for  many 
years,  and  was  a  good  Persian  scholar.  Like 
every  one  who  has  knocked  about  to  any  extent 
among  native  peoples,  his  career  had  not  been 
lacking  in  incident.  I  remember  on  one  oc- 
casion asking  him  why  it  was  that  he  never 
joined  me  in  a  cup  of  coffee  when  we  stopped 
at  a  coffee-house.  He  replied  that  he  had  al- 
ways been  wary  of  coffee  since  a  man  with 
him  was  poisoned  by  a  cup  which  was  intended 
for  him. 

I  always  looked  forward  to  a  trip  to  Bagh- 
dad, for  it  gave  me  a  chance  to  mingle  in  a 
totally  different  life  from  that  which  daily 


BAGHDAD  SKETCHES  149 

surrounded  me,  and  temporarily,  at  least,  for- 
get about  the  war  in  which  the  world  was 
plunged.  Still,  the  morning  set  to  leave  in- 
variably found  me  equally  glad  to  shove  off 
once  more  into  the  great  expanses  of  the 
desert. 


VII 

The  Attack  on  the  Persian  Front 


VII 

THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  PERSIAN 
FRONT 

When  I  reached  headquarters  after  the  at- 
tack on  the  Euphrates  front,  I  was  expecting 
to  hear  that  my  transfer  to  France  had  gone 
through  and  receive  orders  to  proceed  thither 
immediately.  It  had  always  been  my  inten- 
tion to  try  to  join  the  American  army  once  it 
began  to  take  a  real  part  in  the  war,  and  for 
some  time  past  I  had  been  casting  about  in 
my  mind  for  the  best  method  to  carry  out  my 
plans.  When  affairs  looked  so  very  black  for 
the  Allied  forces  in  March  and  April,  1918,  I 
decided  that  France  was  the  place  where  every 
one,  who  could  by  any  possibility  manage  it, 
should  be.  General  Gillman,  the  chief  of 
staff,  had  on  more  than  one  occasion  shown 
himself  a  good  friend,  and  I  determined  to 
once  more  task  his  kindness.  He  said  that  he 
thought  he  could  arrange  for  my  transfer  to 
France,  and  that  once  there  I  could  work  out 

153 


154    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  best  way  of  getting  into  the  American 
army. 

Everything  went  well,  and  I  was  daily  ex- 
pecting my  orders,  when  Major  Thompson, 
who  commanded  the  brigade  of  armored  cars, 
sent  for  me  and  told  me  that  an  advance  was 
being  planned  on  the  Kurdish  front.  Only 
two  batteries  were  to  be  taken — the  Eighth 
and  the  Thirteenth — but  he  said  that  he  would 
like  to  have  me  go  along  in  command  of 
the  supply-train.  Of  course  I  jumped  at  the 
chance,  as  the  attack  promised  to  be  most  in- 
teresting. 

We  were  told  to  be  ready  to  move  on  an 
hour's  notice.  For  several  days  the  weather 
held  us  back.  The  rain,  helped  out  by  the 
melting  snow  from  the  mountains,  caused  the 
rivers  to  rise  in  flood.  The  Tigris  rose  sixteen 
feet  in  a  night.  The  lower  bridge  was  broken 
and  washed  away.  Everything  possible  was 
done  to  reinforce  the  upper  bridge,  but  it  was 
hourly  expected  to  give  way  under  the  strain 
of  the  whirling  yellow  waters.  The  old  Arab 
rivermen  said  that  they  could  tell  by  the  color 
just  which  of  the  tributaries  were  in  spate. 
When  they  saw  or  thought  they  saw  a  new  ad- 
mixture, they  would  shake  their  heads  and 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT      155 

say:  "Such  and  such  a  river  is  now  also  in 
flood — the  Tigris  will  rise  still  further." 

On  the  night  of  April  24  we  at  length  got 
our  orders  and  at  six  o'clock  the  following 
morning  we  set  out,  prepared  to  run  through 
to  Ain  Leilah.  The  country  was  indeed 
changed  since  I  passed  through  six  weeks 
before.  The  desert  had  blossomed.  We  ran 
through  miles  and  miles  of  clover;  the  sweet 
smell  seemed  so  "wholesomely  American,  re- 
calling home  and  family,  and  the  meadows  of 
Long  Island.  The  brilliant  red  poppies  were 
more  in  keeping  with  the  country;  and  we 
passed  by  Indian  cavalry  reinforcements  with 
the  scarlet  flowers  stuck  in  their  black  hair 
and  twined  in  the  head-stalls  of  the  horses. 

As  we  approached  the  hills  they  looked  less 
bleak — a  soft  green  clothed  the  hollows,  and 
the  little  oasis  of  Ain  Leilah  no  longer  stood  out 
in  the  same  marked  contrast  as  when  last  I 
visited  it.  The  roads  were  in  good  shape,  and 
we  reached  camp  at  four  in  the  afternoon.  I 
took  one  of  the  tenders  and  set  off  to  look  up 
some  old  friends  in  the  regiments  near  by.  As 
I  passed  a  group  of  Arabs  that  had  just  fin- 
ished work  on  the  roads,  I  noticed  that  they 
were  playing  a  game  that  was  new  to  me.  A 


156    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

stake  was  driven  into  the  ground,  with  a 
horsehair  rope  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  length  at- 
tached to  it.  An  old  man  had  hold  of  the  end 
of  the  rope.  About  the  stake  were  piled  some 
clothes,  and  the  Arabs  were  standing  around 
in  a  circle  just  out  of  reach  of  the  man  with  the 
rope.  The  object  was  to  dart  in  and  snatch 
up  something  from  the  heap  without  the  old 
man  who  was  on  guard  catching  you.  They 
were  enjoying  themselves  hugely — the  oldest 
graybeards  behaving  as  if  they  were  children — 
a  very  pleasant  side  of  the  Arab. 

Our  instructions  were  to  be  ready  to  pull 
out  before  daybreak.  The  mission  was,  as 
usual,  a  flanking  one.  The  direct  attack  was  to 
be  delivered  on  Kara  Tepe,  and,  if  that  were 
successful,  upon  Kifri.  We  were  to  intercept 
the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  or  cut  off  the 
retreat  of  the  garrisons,  as  the  case  might  be. 

In  the  early  morning  hours  the  country  wras 
lovely — rolling  grass  land  "with  a  hint  of  hills 
behind" — miles  of  daisies  with  clusters  of 
blood-red  poppies  scattered  through  them — 
and  occasional  hollows  carpeted  with  a  bril- 
liant blue  flower.  In  the  river  courses  there 
were  numbers  of  brilliantly  hued  birds — the 
gayest  colors  I  saw  in  Mesopotamia  with  the 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       157 

exception  of  the  vivid  arsenic-green  birds 
around  Ana  on  the  Euphrates.  In  one  place  I 
thought  that  the  ground  was  covered  with  red 
flowers,  but  a  close  inspection  proved  it  to  be 
myriads  of  tiny  red  insects  swarming  on  the 
grass  stems. 

Column  marching  is  slow  and  wearisome,  and 
after  the  sun  rose  the  heat  became  intense. 
The  dust  smothered  us;  there  was  not  a  breath 
of  air  to  rid  us  of  it  for  even  a  moment.  The 
miles  seemed  interminable.  At  noon  we  halted 
beside  a  narrow  stream  known  as  Oil  River — a 
common  name  hi  this  part  of  the  country  where 
oil  abounds  and  the  water  is  heavily  impreg- 
nated with  it.  For  drinking  it  was  abomina- 
ble— and  almost  spoiled  the  tea  upon  which 
we  relied  for  a  staple.  A  few  miles  beyond,  the 
engineers  found  a  suitable  location  to  throw  a 
bridge  across  the  creek.  The  main  body  was 
halted  at  a  place  known  as  Umr  Maidan  and 
we  were  sent  over  the  bridge  to  form  across 
the  main  road  leading  from  Kara  Tepe  back 
into  the  Turkish  territory. 

It  was  nightfall  before  we  had  effected  a 
crossing,  and  we  groped  our  way  along  until 
we  came  upon  the  road.  It  was  impossible  to 
do  very  much  in  the  way  of  selecting  a  posi- 


158    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

tion,  but  we  arranged  the  cars  as  best  we  could. 
When  you  were  off  at  large  in  the  desert  you 
were  what  the  army  called  "Out  in  the  blue," 
and  that  was  certainly  our  situation  on  the 
night  of  April  26.  We  all  expected  that  we 
would  intercept  traffic  going  one  way  or  the 
other,  but  the  night  passed  without  incident 
or  excitement. 

By  four  in  the  morning  we  were  once  more 
feeling  our  way  along  through  the  darkness. 
As  it  lightened  we  came  under  observation  by 
the  Turks,  who  started  in  to  shell  us.  We 
learned  from  our  aeroplanes  that  Kifri  had 
been  evacuated;  the  garrison  was  falling  back 
along  a  road  running  parallel  to  the  one  on 
which  we  were,  separated  by  eight  or  ten  miles 
of  broken  country.  By  this  time  our  cavalry 
had  caught  up  with  us.  They  pushed  off  across 
country  to  intercept  the  Turks.  We  attempted 
to  do  likewise  but  it  was  more  difficult,  and 
what  with  dodging  in  and  out  to  avoid  a  ravine 
here  or  a  hill  there,  we  made  little  headway. 
At  length  we  struck  a  road  that  led  in  approxi- 
mately the  direction  whither  we  wished  to  go. 
It  was  already  early  afternoon  before,  upon 
topping  a  rise,  we  caught  sight  of  a  good-sized 
body  of  Turks  marching  on  a  road  which  ran 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       159 

along  the  base  of  a  range  of  steep,  .ctony  hills. 
We  put  on  as  much  speed  as  was  possible,  and 
headed  north  to  try  to  intercept  them.  The 
cavalry  were  coming  from  the  south,  and  while 
we  were  circling  around  they  charged  in  upon 
the  Turks.  It  was  a  stirring  scene.  The  pow- 
erful Indians  sat  their  horses  with  the  utmost 
grace.  Their  drawn  sabres  flashed  in  the  sun. 
As  they  came  to  close  quarters  the  turbaned 
heads  bent  forward  and  we  could  hear  the 
shouts  and  high-pitched  cries  of  triumph  as 
the  riders  slashed  at  the  foe.  The  wounded 
and  dead  testified  to  their  skill  as  swordsmen. 
The  whole  sight  reminded  me  more  of  the  bat- 
tle books  I  read  as  a  boy  than  anything  I  saw 
in  the  war.  About  six  hundred  prisoners  were 
taken,  but  many  of  the  Turks  escaped  to  the 
mountains  and  lay  among  the  rocks,  whence 
they  could  snipe  at  us  with  impunity.  They 
were  a  tenacious  lot,  for  all  next  day  when  we 
were  using  the  road  below  the  hills  they  con- 
tinued to  shoot  at  us  from  the  places  whence 
it  was  impossible  to  dislodge  them. 

While  the  prisoners  were  being  brought  in 
we  caught  sight  of  one  of  our  aeroplanes  crash- 
ing. Making  our  way  over  to  it  we  found  that 
neither  the  pilot  nor  the  observer  was  seri- 


160    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

ously  hurt.  Flying  in  Mesopotamia  was  made 
unusually  difficult  by  the  climatic  conditions. 
The  planes  were  designed  for  work  in  France 
and  during  the  summer  months  the  heat  and 
dryness  warped  the  propeller  blades  and  in- 
deed all  the  wooden  parts.  Then,  too,  the  fine 
dust  would  get  into  the  machinery  when  the 
aviator  was  taxiing  for  a  start.  Many  pilots 
coming  out  from  France  with  brilliant  records 
met  an  early  and  untimely  end  because  they 
could  not  realize  how  very  different  the  con- 
ditions were.  I  remember  one  poor  young 
fellow  who  set  off  on  a  reconnaissance  without 
the  food  and  water  he  was  required  by  regu- 
lations to  carry.  He  got  lost  and  ran  out  of 
gasolene — being  forced  to  land  out  in  the 
desert.  The  armored  cars  went  off  in  search 
of  him,  and  on  the  second  morning  after'  he 
had  come  down  they  found  his  body  near  their 
bivouac.  He  had  evidently  got  that  far  during 
the  night  and  died  of  exhaustion  and  exposure 
practically  within  hearing.  He  was  stripped 
of  his  clothes;  whether  this  had  been  done  by 
himself  or  by  the  tribesmen  was  never  de- 
termined. A  death  of  this  sort  always  seems 
so  much  sadder  than  being  legitimately  killed  in 
combat.  The  L.  A.  M.  batteries  were  in  close 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       161 

touch  with  the  Royal  Flying  Corps,  for  when 
news  came  in  that  a  plane  was  down  in  the 
desert  or  some  part  of  the  debatable  land,  we 
would  be  detailed  to  go  out  in  search  of  the 
occupants.  A  notice  printed  in  Arabic,  Per- 
sian, Turkish,  and  Kurdish  was  fastened  into 
each  aeroplane  informing  the  reader  of  the  re- 
ward that  would  be  paid  him  if  the  pilot  were 
brought  in  safety  to  the  British  lines.  This 
was  done  in  case  a  plane  got  lost  and  was 
driven  down  out  of  its  course  among  the 
tribesmen. 

The  night  of  the  27th  we  bivouacked  once 
more  "out  in  the  blue."  Dawn  found  me 
on  my  way  back  to  Umr  Maidan  to  lay  in 
a  new  supply  of  gasolene.  I  made  a  rapid 
trip  and  caught  up  with  the  armored  cars 
in  action  in  a  large  swampy  plain.  The  grass 
was  very  high  and  the  ground  so  soft  that 
it  was  difficult  to  accomplish  anything.  Two 
or  three  small  hills  offered  vantage-points,  but 
they  were  not  neglected  by  the  Turk,  and 
among  those  that  fell  was  the  colonel  of  the 
Twenty -First  cavalry — the  regiment  that  had 
acquitted  itself  so  well  in  the  charge  of  the  day 
before. 

We  were  ten  miles  from  Tuz  Khunnartli, 


162    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  next  important  town  held  by  the  enemy 
now  that  Kifri  had  been  taken.  It  was  thither 
that  the  Turks  had  been  retreating  when  we 
cut  them  off.  Finding  that  we  were  unable  to 
operate  effectively  where  we  were,  it  was  de- 
cided that  we  should  make  our  way  across  to 
the  Kifri-Kirkuk  road  and  advance  along  it  to 
make  a  frontal  attack  upon  Tuz.  Our  orders 
were  to  proceed  to  a  deserted  village  known  as 
Kulawand,  and  wait  there  for  the  command  to 
advance.  When  we  got  to  the  road  we  found 
the  hills  still  occupied  by  camel-guns  and 
machine-guns.  We  replied  ineffectively,  for 
we  had  no  means  of  dislodging  them,  nor  did 
the  cavalry  when  they  came  up.  Kulawand 
we  found  to  be  a  fair-sized  native  village  un- 
occupied save  for  a  single  hut  full  of  old  women 
and  children.  Here  we  waited  until  nightfall 
for  the  orders  that  never  came.  I  sat  under  a 
ruined  wall  reading  alternatively  Camoens' 
Lusiad  and  David  Harum  until  darkness  fell. 
During  the  night  some  infantry  came  up, 
both  native  and  British.  They  had  had  stiff 
marching  during  the  last  few  days,  and  were 
done  up,  but  very  cheerful  at  the  prospect  of 
an  attack  on  the  morrow.  They  had  some  hard 
fighting  ahead  of  them.  The  King's  Own  in 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       163 

particular  distinguished  itself  in  taking  a 
stubbornly  contested  and  strongly  held  hill. 

At  dawn  we  were  under  way.  We  had  heard 
reports  during  the  night  that  the  Turks  had 
evacuated  Tuz — but  it  was  not  long  before  we 
found  that  such  was  not  the  case.  They  were 
still  there  and  showed  every  evidence  of  stay- 
ing. A  small  village  five  or  six  miles  to  the 
southwest  was  also  bitterly  contested.  Our 
cavalry  did  some  excellent  work,  capturing 
small  hills  held  with  machine-guns. 

We  advanced  down  the  road  beside  the  hills. 
A  mile  before  reaching  Tuz  we  ran  into  the 
Aq  Su,  a  large  stream  flowing  through  a  nar- 
row cleft  in  the  hills.  Fortunately  the  river 
was  very  low,  and  there  were  several  places 
where  it  was  spread  out  over  such  a  wide  bed 
that  it  seemed  as  if  it  might  be  possible  to  get 
the  cars  across.  I  emptied  a  Ford  van  and 
set  out  to  do  some  prospecting.  First  I  went 
up-stream,  which  was  toward  the  mountains, 
but  I  could  not  go  far,  for  there  was  an  ancient 
fort  situated  at  the  mouth  of  the  gorge,  and  it 
had  not  been  evacuated.  Finding  a  likely  look- 
ing place  a  little  below,  I  made  a  cast  and  just 
succeeded  in  getting  through.  It  was  easy  to 
see  that  it  would  not  be  possible  for  the  low- 


164    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

swung  Rolls  to  cross  under  their  own  power, 
for  the  fly-wheel  would  throw  the  water  up 
into  the  motor.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but 
send  back  for  artillery  horses  to  pull  the  ar- 
mored cars  across. 

Meanwhile,  as  our  artillery  had  practically 
ceased  firing  on  the  town  and  the  Turks 
seemed  to  have  entirely  evacuated  it,  I  thought 
that  I  would  go  up  and  take  over  and  see 
whether  there  had  not  been  some  valuable 
documents  left  behind.  I  drove  along  past 
some  abandoned  artillery  into  the  main  street. 
A  number  of  Turkish  soldiers  came  up  to  sur- 
render and  I  told  them  to  have  the  Reis  Bele- 
dia — the  town  mayor — report  to  me.  When 
he  came  I  directed  him  to  take  me  to  the  quar- 
ters of  the  Turkish  commanding  general.  As 
we  drove  through  the  covered  bazaar  every- 
thing was  closed.  Scarcely  anybody  was  in 
the  streets — but  I  could  see  the  inhabitants 
peeping  out  from  behind  lattices.  It  was  a 
good  thing  to  have  the  old  mayor  along,  for 
he  served  as  an  excellent  hostage,  and  I  kept 
close  watch  upon  him.  He  brought  me  to  a 
prosperous,  neat-looking  house  with  heavy 
wooden  doors.  In  response  to  his  summons 
an  old  woman  came  and  ushered  us  into  a 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       165 

large,  cool  room,  well  furnished  and  with  beau- 
tiful Kurdish  rugs.  There  we  found  four  young 
girls,  who,  it  was  explained  to  me,  formed  the 
Turkish  general's  "field  harem."  He  had 
left  in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  take  them  with 
him.  They  were  Kurds  and  Circassians,  or 
Georgians — and  the  general  had  shown  no  lack 
of  taste  in  his  selection !  True  to  the  tradi- 
tion of  the  Garden  of  Eden,  this  harenTproved 
disastrous  to  a  brother  officer  who,  having 
heard  of  my  capture,  sent  me  "priority"  over 
the  field  service  lines  a  ribald  message  as  to 
its  disposition.  "Priority"  wires  are  sent  only 
on  affairs  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  when 
I  left  the  country  my  friend  was  slated  to  ex- 
plain matters  before  a  court  martial.  There 
were  no  papers  of  any  great  value  to  be  found, 
and  I  told  the  mayor  to  take  me  to  the  more 
important  ammunition  and  supply  dumps. 
By  the  time  I  had  located  these  some  cavalry 
had  come  in,  and  I  went  back  to  the  river  to 
help  get  the  fighting  cars  across. 

Once  we  had  these  safely  over  we  set  out  in 
pursuit  of  the  Turks.  The  next  town  of  im- 
portance was  a  ramshackle  mud-walled  affair 
called  Tauq,  twenty  miles  beyond,  on  the  far 
side  of  a  river  known  as  the  Tauq  Chai.  The 


166    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

leading  cars  pursued  to  within  sight  of  the 
town  and  came  in  for  a  good  deal  of  shelling. 

The  Turks  we  captured  were  in  far  poorer 
shape  than  those  we  had  recently  taken  on  the 
Euphrates  front.  Their  shoes  were  worn  out, 
they  were  very  ragged,  and,  what  was  of  greater 
significance,  they  were  badly  nourished.  The 
length  of  their  line  of  communications  had 
evidently  severely  strained  them.  Supplies  had 
to  come  overland  all  the  way  from  Nisibin, 
which  is  more  than  a  hundred  miles  beyond  Mo- 
sul. The  broken  country  made  the  transporta- 
tion a  difficult  problem  to  solve.  It  was  a  mir- 
acle that  they  had  the  morale  to  fight  as  they 
did  under  such  disadvantageous  conditions. 

Here,  as  throughout  the  campaign,  it  was  a 
continual  source  of  pride  to  see  the  way  in 
which  our  soldiers  behaved  to  the  natives.  I 
never  heard  of  a  case  in  which  man,  woman,  or 
child  was  wrongfully  treated.  Minor  offenses 
were  sometimes  committed,  but  these  were 
quickly  righted.  No  doubt  there  were  isolated 
instances  of  wrong-doing,  for  in  such  a  large 
army  there  are  bound  to  be  degenerate  in- 
dividuals from  whose  conduct  it  is  unfair  to 
judge  the  whole. 

That  night  we  encamped  in  the  outskirts  of 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       167 

Tuz,  not  far  from  the  Turkish  aerodrome. 
Next  morning  one  of  the  batteries  was  ordered 
to  reconnoitre  as  far  as  the  town — pursuing  a 
different  route  than  that  taken  on  the  previous 
day.  The  commanding  officer  asked  me  to  go 
along  because  of  my  knowledge  of  Arabic. 
The  road  followed  the  telegraph-lines,  and  part 
of  the  tune  that  was  the  only  way  in  which 
we  could  distinguish  it  from  the  surrounding 
country.  Of  course,  the  map  was  hopelessly 
incorrect.  The  villages  were  not  even  rightly 
named.  A  great  deal  of  reconnoitring  was 
called  for,  and  in  one  village  we  had  to  knock 
the  corner  off  a  mud  house  to  enable  us  to  make 
a  sharp  right-angle  turn.  The  natives  were  in 
pitiful  condition.  The  Turks  had  not  only 
taken  all  their  crops,  but  even  the  grain  that 
should  be  reserved  to  sow  for  the  following 
year.  The  sheep  had  been  killed  in  the  lamb- 
ing season,  so  the  flocks  were  sadly  depleted. 
Such  standing  grain  as  there  was  left  looked 
flourishing.  The  wheat  waved  above  the  cars. 
As  we  came  out  of  a  deep,  broad  ravine  that 
had  caused  us  much  delay  and  difficulty,  we 
caught  sight  of  an  attractive  town  situated  on 
a  steep,  flat-topped  hill.  Upon  drawing  near, 
a  fine-looking,  white-bearded  Arab  rode  up  on 


168   WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

a  small  gray  mare.  He  said  that  he  was  the 
head  man  of  the  town;  that  he  hated  the  Turks, 
and  would  like  to  be  of  any  assistance  possible 
to  us.  I  asked  him  if  the  enemy  had  evacuated 
Tauq.  He  replied  that  they  had.  I  then  asked 
him  if  he  were  positive  about  it.  He  offered 
to  accompany  us  to  prove  it.  The  trail  was 
so  bad  that  we  could  not  go  fast,  and  he  rode 
along  beside  us  at  a  hand-gallop. 

When  we  came  to  the  river  in  front  of  the 
town  we  found  that  it  was  impossible  to  get 
the  armored  cars  across.  The  Turks  had  evi- 
dently fallen  back,  but  not  far,  for  they  were 
dropping  in  shells  with  regularity.  Our  Arab 
friend  told  us  that  there  was  a  bridge  six 
miles  up-stream,  but  it  was  too  late  for  us  to 
attempt  it,  and  we  turned  back  to  Tuz  after 
arranging  with  Sheikh  Muttar  to  meet  us  in 
the  morning. 

Next  day  we  found  him  waiting  for  us  as 
he  had  promised.  With  him  were  two  hand- 
some Kurds.  One  of  them  had  his  wife  perched 
behind  him  on  the  horse's  crupper.  Together 
they  undertook  to  guide  us  up  to  the  bridge. 
It  was  invariably  difficult  to  find  out  from 
natives  whether  or  not  a  road  was  passable 
for  motor-cars.  They  were  accustomed  to 


The  Kurd  and  his  wife 


Sheik  Muttar  and  the  two  Kurds 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       169 

think  only  in  terms  of  horses  or  men,  and  could 
not  realize  that  a  bad  washout  might  be  im- 
passable for  automobiles.  Curiously  enough, 
even  those  natives  whom  we  had  taken  along 
with  us  on  several  reconnaissances  as  guides 
could  not  be  trusted  to  give  an  opinion  as  to 
the  feasibility  of  a  proposed  route.  We  ex- 
perienced no  little  trouble  hi  following  our 
guides  to  the  bridge,  although  we  afterward 
discovered  a  good  road  that  cut  off  from  the 
main  trail  about  half-way  between  Tuz  and 
Tauq. 

When  we  reached  the  bridge  we  found  it  to 
be  a  solid,  well-built  affair  of  recent  construc- 
tion. The  retreating  Turks  had  tried  to  blow 
it  up,  but  the  most  vital  charges  had  failed  to 
go  off,  so  the  damage  done  would  not  be  suffi- 
ciently serious  to  stop  our  passage,  after  six 
or  seven  hours'  preliminary  work.  We  im- 
mediately sent  back  for  the  engineers,  and  put 
in  the  time  while  waiting  by  taking  a  much- 
needed  bath  in  the  rapids  beneath  one  of  the 
side  arches.  Every  one  who  has  wandered 
about  in  the  waste  places  of  the  world  can  re- 
call certain  swims  that  will  always  stand  out 
in  his  memory.  Perhaps  they  have  been  after 
a  long  and  arduous  hunt — perhaps  at  the  end 


170    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

of  a  weary  march.  Our  plunge  in  the  Tauq 
Chai  took  its  place  among  these. 

In  the  late  afternoon  we  drove  back  to  Tuz. 
Our  camp  there  was  anything  but  cheerful, 
for  swarms  of  starving  townsfolk  hovered  on 
the  outskirts  ready  to  pounce  on  any  refuse 
that  the  men  threw  away.  Discarded  tin  cans 
were  cleaned  out  until  the  insides  shone  like 
mirrors.  The  men  gave  away  everything  they 
could  possibly  spare  from  their  rations.  As 
the  news  spread,  the  starving  mountain  Kurds 
began  straggling  in;  and  the  gruesome  band 
made  one  glad  to  leave  camp  early  and  return 
after  dark.  Our  line  of  communication  was  so 
extended  that  it  was  impossible  to  attempt  any 
relief  work. 

The  following  morning  we  crossed  over  the 
bridge  with  little  trouble,  but  ran  into  a  lot  of 
difficulty  when  we  tried  to  make  our  way  down 
to  the  town.  A  couple  of  miles  above  the  main 
town  there  is  a  small  settlement  grouped  on  a 
hill  around  the  mosque  of  Zain  El  Abidin. 
The  "mutabelli,"  or  keeper  of  the  shrine,  is 
an  important  personage  in  the  community,  so 
when  he  appeared  riding  a  richly  caparisoned 
stallion  and  offered  to  accompany  us  to  the 
town,  we  welcomed  the  opportunity  of  going 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT      171 

in  under  such  good  auspices.  We  decided  to 
take  Seyid  Mustapha,  for  that  was  his  name,  in 
one  of  the  Ford  vans  with  us.  It  was  compara- 
tively easy  to  get  the  light  car  up  over  the  pre- 
cipitous, rocky  trail;  and  eventually  one  of  the 
fighting  cars  succeeded  in  following.  I  was 
driving,  with  Mustapha  beside  me.  In  front 
of  us  on  a  white  horse  galloped  the  Seyid's 
attendant  singing  and  shouting  and  proclaim- 
ing our  arrival.  We  stopped  at  Mustapha's 
house  for  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  discussion  of 
events.  The  information  which  we  secured 
from  him  afterward  proved  unusually  correct. 
I  took  him  on  with  us  to  the  town  so  that  he 
could  identify  the  head  man  and  see  that  we 
got  hold  of  the  right  people.  Our  reception 
was  by  no  means  cordial,  although  after  we 
had  talked  a  little  and  explained  what  we  were 
after,  the  mayor  became  cheerful  and  expan- 
sive. He  had  a  jovial,  rotund  face,  covered 
in  large  part  by  a  bushy  beard,  and  would 
have  done  excellently  as  a  model  for  Silenus. 
In  the  town  were  a  handful  of  Turkish  strag- 
glers— among  them  a  stalwart  Greek  who 
spoke  a  little  English.  He  said  that  he  had 
been  impressed  into  service  by  the  Turks  and 
was  most  anxious  to  join  our  forces. 


172   WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

We  found  large  stores  of  ammunition  and 
other  supplies,  among  them  a  wireless  set. 
What  interested  us  most,  I  am  afraid,  was  the 
quantity  of  chickens  that  we  saw  strutting 
about.  A  few  of  them  and  a  good  supply  of 
eggs  found  their  way  to  the  automobiles  in 
short  order.  We  were  always  very  particular 
about  paying  for  whatever  we  took,  and  seeing 
that  the  men  did  likewise;  our  reputation 
went  before  us,  and  the  native,  as  a  rule,  took 
it  for  granted  that  we  would  pay.  It  was  up 
to  the  officers  to  see  that  the  prices  were  not 
exorbitant.  We  always  used  Indian  currency 
— the  rupee  and  the  anna.  In  normal  times 
a  rupee  is  about  a  third  of  a  dollar.  Through- 
out the  occupied  area  Turkish  currency  also 
circulated,  but  the  native  invariably  preferred 
to  be  paid  in  Indian.  Curiously  enough,  even 
on  entering  towns  like  Tauq,  we  found  the 
inhabitants  eager  for  payment  in  rupees.  I 
was  told  that  in  the  money  market  in  Bagh- 
dad a  British  advance  would  be  heralded  by  a 
slump  in  Turkish  exchange.  Paper  rupees 
were  almost  everywhere  as  readily  accepted 
as  silver,  but  paper  liras  and  piasters  were 
soon  of  so  little  value  that  they  were  no  longer 
in  circulation. 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT      173 

When  we  got  back  to  camp  I  found  a  wire 
informing  me  that  I  had  been  transferred  to 
the  American  army,  and  ordering  me  to  re- 
port at  once  to  Baghdad  to  be  sent  to  France. 
Major  Thompson  asked  me  if  I  would  delay 
my  return  until  the  end  of  the  advance.  It 
was  rumored  that  we  would  continue  to  push 
on  and  would  attack  Kirkuk.  Many  felt  that 
the  difficulty  that  was  already  being  experi- 
enced in  rationing  us  would  preclude  our 
thrusting  farther.  Still,  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  as  long  as  the  major  wished  it  and  would 
wire  for  permission  I  would  stay  a  few  days 
longer  on  the  chance  of  the  attack  continuing. 

On  the  morning  of  the  3d  we  moved  camp 
to  the  far  side  of  the  Tauq  Chai  bridge.  When 
the  tenders  were  unloaded  I  started  back  to 
bring  up  a  supply  of  gasolene,  with  the  purpose 
of  making  a  dump  in  case  we  were  called  upon 
for  a  further  advance.  I  was  told  that  the 
nearest  supply  from  which  I  could  draw  was 
at  Umr  Maidan;  and  the  prospect  of  run- 
ning back,  a  distance  of  seventy  miles,  was  not 
cheerful.  When  I  got  as  far  as  Tuz  I  found 
a  friend  hi  charge  of  the  dump  there,  and  he 
let  me  draw  what  I  wanted,  so  I  turned  back 
to  try  to  get  to  the  bridge  by  dark.  One  car 


174    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

after  another  got  in  trouble;  first  it  was  a 
puncture,  then  it  was  a  tricky  carburetor  that 
refused  to  be  put  to  rights;  towing-ropes  were 
called  into  requisition,  but  the  best  had  been 
left  behind,  and  those  we  had  were  rotted, 
and  broke  on  every  hill.  Lastly  a  broken  axle 
put  one  of  the  tenders  definitely  out  of  com- 
mission, and,  of  course,  I  had  to  wait  behind 
with  it.  To  add  to  everything,  a  veritable 
hurricane  set  in,  with  thunder  and  lightning 
and  torrents  of  rain.  The  wind  blew  so  hard 
that  I  thought  the  car  would  be  toppled  over. 
What  made  us  more  gloomy  than  anything  else 
was  the  thought  of  all  the  dry  river  courses 
that  would  be  roaring  floods  by  morning,  and 
probably  hold  up  the  ration  supply  indef- 
initely. 

Two  days  later  the  orders  for  which  we  had 
been  waiting  came  through.  We  were  to 
march  upon  a  town  called  Taza  Khurmatli, 
lying  fifteen  miles  beyond  Tauq  and  ten  short 
of  Kirkuk.  If  we  met  with  no  opposition  there 
we  were  to  push  straight  on.  From  all  we 
could  hear  Taza  was  occupied  only  by  cavalry, 
which  would  probably  fall  back  without  con- 
testing our  advance.  The  cars  had  been  out 
on  reconnaissance  near  the  town  for  the  last 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       175 

two  days,  and  had  come  in  for  artillery  and 
machine-gun  fire;  but  it  was  believed  that  the 
Turks  had  everything  ready  to  withdraw  their 
guns  on  our  approach. 

In  the  gray  light  that  preceded  dawn  we 
saw  shadowy  columns  of  infantry  and  artillery 
and  cavalry  passing  by  our  camp.  The  cos- 
tumes of  the  different  regiments  made  a  break 
in  the  drab  monotony.  The  Mesopotamian 
Expeditionary  Force  was  composed  of  varied 
components.  Steel  helmets  could  be  worn  only 
in  winter.  In  many  of  the  native  regiments 
the  British  officers  wore  tasselled  pugrees, 
and  long  tunics  that  were  really  shirts,  and  an 
adaption  of  the  native  custom  of  wearing  the 
shirt-tails  outside  the  trousers.  The  Gurkhas 
were  supplied  with  pith  helmets.  It  was  gen- 
erally claimed  that  this  was  unnecessary,  but 
the  authorities  felt  that  coming  from  a  cold, 
high  climate  they  would  be  as  much  affected 
by  the  Mesopotamian  sun  as  were  Europeans. 
The  presence  of  the  Indian  troops  brought 
about  unusual  additions  to  the  dry  "General 
Routine  Orders"  issued  by  general  head- 
quarters. One  of  them,  referring  to  a  religious 
festival  of  the  Sikhs,  ran: 

"The  following  cable  message  received  from 


176   WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Sunder  Signh  Hagetha,  Amritsar,  addressed  to 
Sikhs  in  Mesopotamian  force: 

"To  our  most  Dear  Brothers  now  serving 
the  Benign  King-Emperor  oversea,  the  chief 
Khalsa  Dewan  tenders  hearty  and  sincere 
greetings  on  the  auspicious  Gurpurb  of  First 
Guru.  You  are  upholding  the  name  and  fame 
of  Gurupurb.  Our  hearts  are  with  you  and 
our  prayers  are  that  Satguru  and  Akalpurkh 
may  ever  be  with  you  and  lead  you  to  victory 
and  return  home  safe,  after  vanquishing  the 
King-Emperor's  foes,  with  honor  and  flying 
colors." 

The  British  Empire  was  well  and  loyally 
served  by  her  Indian  subjects,  and  by  none 
more  faithfully  than  the  Sikhs. 

We  let  the  column  get  well  started  before  we 
shoved  off  in  our  cars.  The  trail  was  wide 
enough  to  pass  without  interfering;  and  long 
before  we  were  in  sight  of  Taza  we  had  taken 
our  place  ahead.  As  was  foreseen,  the  enemy 
evacuated  the  town  with  scarce  a  show  of  re- 
sistance. I  set  off  to  interview  the  local  head 
man.  In  the  spring  all  the  upper  Mesopotamian 
towns  are  inundated  by  flocks  of  storks,  but 
I  have  never  seen  them  in  greater  force  than 
in  Taza.  On  almost  every  housetop  were  a 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       177 

couple,  throwing  their  heads  back  and  clatter- 
ing their  beaks  in  the  odd  way  that  gives 
them  their  onomatopoetic  Arabic  name  of 
Lak-Lak.  It  sounded  like  the  rattle  of  ma- 
chine-guns; so  much  so  that  on  entering  the 
village,  for  the  first  second  I  thought  that  the 
Turks  were  opening  up  on  us.  No  native  will 
molest  a  stork;  to  do  so  is  considered  to  the 
last  degree  inauspicious. 

There  was  but  little  water  in  the  river  run- 
ning by  Taza,  and  we  managed  to  get  the  cars 
through  under  their  own  power.  A  few  miles 
farther  on  lay  a  broad  watercourse,  dry  in  the 
main,  but  with  the  centre  channel  too  deep  to 
negotiate,  so  there  was  nothing  to  be  done 
without  the  help  of  the  artillery  horses.  The 
Turks  were  shelling  the  vicinity  of  the  cross- 
ing, so  we  drew  back  a  short  distance  and  sent 
word  that  we  were  held  UD  waiting  for  assis- 
tance to  get  us  over. 

Once  we  had  reached  the  far  side  we  set  out 
to  pick  our  way  round  Kirkuk  to  get  astride 
the  road  leading  thence  to  Altun  Kupri.  This 
is  the  main  route  from  Baghdad  to  Mosul,  the 
chief  city  on  the  upper  Tigris,  across  the  river 
from  the  rums  of  Nineveh.  It  was  a  difficult 
task  finding  a  way  practicable  for  the  cars,  as 


178   WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  ground  was  still  soft  from  the  recent  rains. 
It  was  impossible  to  keep  defiladed  from  Turk- 
ish observation,  but  we  did  not  supply  them 
with  much  in  the  way  of  a  target.  At  length 
we  got  round  to  the  road,  and  started  to  ad- 
vance down  it  to  Kirkuk.  The  town,  in  com- 
mon with  so  many  others  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  is  built  on  a  hill.  The  Hamawand 
Kurds  are  inveterate  raiders,  and  good  forti- 
fications are  needed  to  withstand  them.  As  we 
came  out  upon  the  road  we  caught  sight  of  our 
cavalry  preparing  to  attack.  The  Turks  were 
putting  up  a  stout  resistance,  with  darkness 
fast  coming  to  their  aid.  After  approaching 
close  to  the  town,  we  were  ordered  to  return  to 
a  deserted  village  for  the  night,  prepared  to  go 
through  in  the  early  morning. 

The  co-ordinates  of  the  village  were  given, 
and  we  easily  found  it  on  the  map;  but  it  was 
quite  another  proposition  to  locate  it  physically. 
To  add  to  our  difficulties,  the  sky  clouded 
over  and  pitchy  blackness  settled  down.  It 
soon  started  to  rain,  so  we  felt  that  the  best  we 
could  do  was  select  as  likely  a  spot  as  came  to 
hand  and  wait  for  morning.  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  the  front  seat  of  a  van,  uncomfort- 
able and  cramped  as  it  was,  would  prove  the 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       179 

best  bed  for  the  night.  My  estimate  was 
correct,  for  at  midnight  the  light  drizzle,  that 
was  scarcely  more  than  a  Scotch  mist,  turned 
into  a  wild,  torrential  downpour  that  all  but 
washed  away  my  companions.  The  water- 
proof flap  that  I  had  rigged  withstood  the  on- 
slaughts of  wind  and  rain  in  a  fashion  that 
was  as  gratifying  as  it  was  unexpected.  The 
vivid  flashes  of  lightning  showed  the  little  dry 
ravine  beside  us  converted  into  a  roaring, 
swirling  torrent.  The  water  was  rushing  past 
beneath  the  cars,  half-way  up  to  their  hubs. 
A  large  field  hospital  had  been  set  up  close 
to  the  banks  of  the  stream  at  Taza.  We  after- 
ward heard  that  the  river  had  risen  so  rapidly 
that  many  of  the  tents  and  a  few  ambulances 
were  washed  away. 

By  morning  it  had  settled  down  into  a 
steady,  businesslike  downpour.  We  found 
that  we  were  inextricably  caught  in  among 
some  low  hills.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
chance  of  moving  the  fighting  cars;  they  were 
bogged  down  to  the  axle.  There  was  no  al- 
ternative other  than  to  wait  until  the  rain 
stopped  and  the  mud  dried.  Fortunately  our 
emergency  rations  were  still  untouched. 

Our  infantry  went  over  at  dawn,  and  won 


180    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

through  into  the  town.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
the  rain  we  would  have  made  some  important 
captures.  As  it  was,  the  Turks  destroyed  the 
bridge  across  the  Hasa  Su  and  retreated  to 
Altun  Kupri  by  the  road  on  the  farther  bank. 
From  a  hill  near  by  we  watched  everything, 
powerless  to  help  in  any  way. 

At  noon  the  sky  unexpectedly  cleared  and 
the  sun  came  out.  We  unloaded  a  Ford  van, 
and  with  much  pushing  and  no  little  spade 
work  managed  to  get  it  down  to  a  road  running 
in  the  direction  of  Kirkuk.  We  found  the 
surface  equal  to  the  light  car,  and  slowly  made 
our  way  to  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  with  oc- 
casional halts  where  digging  and  shoving  were 
required.  We  satisfied  ourselves  that,  given  a 
little  sun,  we  could  bring  the  armored  cars  out 
of  their  bog  and  through  to  the  town. 

Next  morning,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  more 
rain  had  fallen  during  the  night,  I  set  to  work 
on  my  tenders,  and  at  length  succeeded  in 
putting  them  all  in  Kirkuk.  We  were  billeted 
in  the  citadel,  a  finely  built,  substantial  affair, 
with  a  courtyard  that  we  could  turn  into  a 
good  garage.  The  Turks  had  left  in  great  haste, 
and,  although  they  had  attempted  a  whole- 
sale destruction  of  everything  that  they  could 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT      181 

not  take,  they  had  been  only  partially  success- 
ful. In  my  room  I  found  a  quantity  of  pam- 
phlets describing  the  American  army — with  dia- 
grams of  insignia,  and  pictures  of  fully  equipped 
soldiers  of  the  different  branches  of  the  service. 
There  was  also  a  map  of  the  United  States 
showing  the  population  by  States.  The  text 
was,  of  course,  in  Turkish  and  the  printing 
excellently  done.  What  the  purpose  might  be 
I  could  not  make  out. 

The  wherefore  of  another  booklet  was  more 
obvious.  It  was  an  illustrated  account  of  al- 
leged British  atrocities.  Most  of  the  pictures 
purported  to  have  been  taken  in  the  Sudan, 
and  showed  decapitated  negroes.  Some  I  am 
convinced  were  pictures  of  the  Armenian 
massacres  that  the  Turks  had  themselves  taken 
and  in  a  thrifty  moment  put  to  this  useful  pur- 
pose. This  pamphlet  was  printed  at  the  press 
in  Kirkuk. 

There  were  a  number  of  excellent  buildings 
— mainly  workshops  and  armories,  but  the  best 
was  the  hospital.  The  long  corridors  and  deep 
windows  of  the  wards  looked  very  cool.  An 
up-to-date  impression  was  given  by  the  in- 
dividual patient  charts,  with  the  headings  for 
the  different  diagnoses  printed  in  Turkish  and 


182   WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

French.  The  doctors  were  mainly  Armenians. 
The  occupants  were  all  suffering  from  mal- 
nutrition, and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  starva- 
tion in  the  town. 

I  did  not  wish  to  return  to  Baghdad  until  I 
could  be  certain  that  we  were  not  going  to  ad- 
vance upon  Altun  Kupri.  The  engineers 
patched  up  the  bridge,  and  we  took  the  cars 
over  to  the  other  side  and  went  off  on  a  recon- 
naissance to  ascertain  how  strongly  the  town 
was  being  held.  The  long  bridge  from  which 
it  gets  its  name  could  easily  be  destroyed,  and 
crossing  over  the  river  would  be  no  light  mat- 
ter. The  surrounding  mountains  limited  the 
avenue  of  attack.  Altogether  it  would  not  be 
an  easy  nut  to  crack,  and  the  Turks  had  evi- 
dently determined  on  a  stand.  What  decided 
the  army  commander  not  to  make  any  further 
attempt  to  advance  was  most  probably  the 
great  length  of  the  line  of  communications, 
and  the  recent  floods  had  made  worse  con- 
ditions which  were  bad  enough  at  the  best. 
The  ration  supply  had  fallen  very  low,  and  it 
seemed  impossible  to  hold  even  Kirkuk  unless 
the  rail-head  could  be  advanced  materially. 

I  put  in  all  my  odd  moments  wandering  about 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       183 

the  bazaars.  The  day  after  the  fall  the  mer- 
chants opened  their  booths  and  transacted 
business  as  usual.  The  population  was  com- 
posed of  many  races,  chiefly  Turcoman,  Kurd, 
and  Arab.  There  were  also  Armenians,  Chal- 
deans, Syrians,  and  Jews.  The  latter  were  ex- 
ceedingly prosperous.  Arabic  and  Kurdish 
and  Turkish  were  all  three  spoken.  Kirkuk 
is  of  very  ancient  origin — but  of  its  early  his- 
tory little  is  known.  The  natives  point  out  a 
mound  which  they  claim  to  be  Daniel's  tomb. 
Two  others  are  shown  as  belonging  to  Shad- 
rach  and  Meshech;  that  of  the  third  of  the 
famous  trio  has  been  lost.  There  are  many 
artificial  hills  in  the  neighborhood,  and  doubt- 
less in  course  of  time  it  will  prove  a  fruitful 
hunting-ground  for  archaeologists.  As  far  as 
I  could  learn  no  serious  excavating  has  hitherto 
been  undertaken  in  the  vicinity. 

The  bazaars  were  well  filled  with  goods  of 
every  sort.  I  picked  up  one  or  two  excellent 
rugs  for  very  little,  and  a  few  odds  and  ends, 
dating  from  Seleucid  times,  that  had  been  un- 
earthed by  Arab  laborers  in  their  gardens  or 
brick-kilns.  There  were  some  truck-gardens 
in  the  outskirts,  and  we  traded  fresh  vegetables 
for  some  of  our  issue  rations.  There  are  few 


184    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

greater  luxuries  when  one  has  been  living  on 
canned  foods  for  a  long  time.  I  saw  several 
ibex  heads  nailed  up  over  the  doors  of  houses. 
The  owners  told  me  that  they  were  to  be  found 
in  the  near-by  mountains,  but  were  not  plentiful. 
There  is  little  large  game  left  in  Mesopotamia, 
and  that  mainly  in  the  mountains.  I  once 
saw  a  striped  hyena.  It  is  a  nocturnal  animal, 
and  they  may  be  common,  although  I  never 
came  across  but  the  one,  which  I  caught  sight 
of  slinking  among  the  ruins  of  Istabulat,  south 
of  Samarra,  one  evening  when  I  was  riding  back 
to  camp.  Gazelle  were  fairly  numerous,  and 
we  occasionally  shot  one  for  venison.  It  was 
on  the  plains  between  Eazil  Robat  and  Kara 
Tepe  that  I  saw  the  largest  bands.  Judging 
from  ancient  bas-reliefs  lions  must  at  one  time 
have  been  very  plentiful.  In  the  forties  of  the 
last  century  Sir  Henry  Layard  speaks  of  com- 
ing across  them  frequently  in  the  hill  country; 
and  later  still,  in  the  early  eighties,  a  fellow 
countryman,  Mr.  Fogg,  in  his  Land  of  the 
Arabian  Nights,  mentions  that  the  English 
captain  of  a  river  steamer  had  recently  killed 
four  lions,  shooting  from  the  deck  of  his  boat. 
Rousseau  speaks  of  meeting,  near  Hit,  a  man 
who  had  been  badly  mauled  by  a  lion,  and 


ON  THE  PERSIAN  FRONT       185 

was  going  to  town  to  have  his  wounds  cared 
for.  Leopards  and  bears  are  to  be  met  with 
in  the  higher  mountain  regions,  and  wild  boars 
are  common  in  many  districts.  They  inhabit 
the  thickets  along  the  river-banks,  in  country 
that  would  permit  of  much  sound  sport  in 
the  shape  of  pig-sticking. 

Game-birds  are  found  in  abundance;  both 
greater  and  lesser  bustard;  black  and  gray 
partridges,  quail,  geese,  duck,  and  snipe.  A 
week's  leave  could  be  made  provide  good 
shooting  and  a  welcome  addition  to  the  usual 
fare  when  the  wanderer  returned.  Every  sort 
of  shotgun  was  requisitioned,  from  antiquated 
muzzle-loaders  bought  in  the  bazaar  to  the 
most  modern  creations  of  Purdy  sent  out  from 
India  by  parcel-post. 

After  waiting  a  few  days  further,  to  be  cer- 
tain that  an  attack  would  not  be  unexpectedly 
ordered,  I  set  out  on  my  return  trip  to  Bagh- 
dad. The  river  at  Taza  was  still  up,  but  I  bor- 
rowed six  mules  from  an  accommodating  gal- 
loping ambulance,  and  pulled  the  car  across. 
We  went  by  way  of  Kifri,  a  clean,  stone-built 
town  that  we  found  all  but  empty.  The  food 
situation  had  become  so  critical  that  the  in- 
habitants had  drifted  off,  some  to  our  lines, 


186    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

others  to  Persia,  and  still  others  to  Kirkuk  and 
Mosul.  Near  Kifri  are  some  coal-mines  about 
which  we  had  heard  much.  It  is  the  only  place 
in  the  country  where  coal  is  worked,  and  we 
were  hoping  that  we  might  put  it  to  good  use. 
Our  experts,  however,  reported  that  it  was 
of  very  poor  quality  and  worth  practically 
nothing. 


VIII 

Back  Through  Palestine 


VIII 

BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE 

Several  days  later  I  embarked  at  Baghdad 
on  one  of  the  river  boats.  I  took  Yusuf  with 
me  to  Busra  to  put  me  aboard  the  transport 
for  Egypt.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever 
been  that  far  down-stream,  and  he  showed  a 
fine  contempt  for  everything  he  saw,  compar- 
ing it  in  most  disparaging  terms  to  his  own 
desolate  native  town  of  Samarra.  The  cheap- 
ness, variety,  and  plenty  of  the  food  hi  the 
bazaars  of  Busra  were  the  only  things  that  he 
allowed  in  any  way  to  impress  him. 

I  was  fortunate  enough  to  run  into  some 
old  friends,  and  through  one  of  them  met 
General  Sutton,  who  most  kindly  and  oppor- 
tunely rescued  me  from  the  dreary  "Rest- 
Camp"  and  took  me  to  his  house.  While  I 
was  waiting  for  a  chance  to  get  a  place  on  a 
transport,  he  one  morning  asked  me  to  go  with 
him  to  Zobeir,  where  he  was  to  dedicate  a  hos- 
pital. Zobeir  is  a  desert  town  of  ten  thousand 
or  so  inhabitants,  situated  fifteen  miles  inland 

189 


190    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

from  Busra.  The  climate  is  supposed  to  be 
more  healthful,  and  many  of  the  rich  and  im- 
portant residents  of  the  river  town  have  houses 
there  to  which  they  retire  during  the  summer 
months.  To  an  outsider  any  comparison 
would  seem  only  a  refinement  of  degrees  of 
suffocation.  The  heat  of  all  the  coastal  towns 
of  the  Persian  Gulf  is  terrific. 

Zobeir  is  a  desert  town,  with  its  ideals  and 
feelings  true  to  the  inheritance  of  the  tribes- 
men. It  is  a  market  for  the  caravans  of  central 
Arabia.  A  good  idea  of  the  Turkish  feeling  to- 
ward it  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that 
the  inhabitants  were  exempt  from  military  ser- 
vice. This  was  a  clear  admission  on  the  part 
of  the  Turk  that  he  could  not  cope  with  the 
situation,  and  thought  it  wisest  not  to  attempt 
something  which  he  had  no  hope  of  putting 
through.  It  was,  therefore,  a  great  triumph 
for  the  British  and  a  sure  wedge  into  the  con- 
fidence of  the  desert  folk  when  the  hospital 
was  opened,  for  any  people  that  can  intro- 
duce so  marked  an  innovation  among  the  hide- 
bound desert  communities  must  have  won 
their  confidence  and  respect  in  a  remarkable  de- 
gree. Ibrahim,  the  hereditary  Sheikh  of  Zobeir, 
himself  contributed  largely  to  the  fund  for 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    191 

the  endowment.  It  was  arranged  that  Doctor 
Borrie,  who  among  his  other  duties  ran  the 
civil  hospital  at  Busra,  should  periodically  in- 
clude Zobeir  in  his  rounds.  The  Sheikh  showed 
us  over  the  building.  It  was  cool,  comfort- 
able, and  very  sanitary.  The  Indian  who  was 
to  be  resident  physician  had  every  appear- 
ance of  intelligence  and  proficiency.  Old 
Ibrahim  gave  us  a  large  banquet  of  the  or- 
thodox type.  There  was  a  sheep  roasted  whole, 
and  dishes  of  every  sort  of  meat  and  vegetable 
marshalled  upon  the  table,  which  fairly  groaned 
beneath  their  weight.  We  had  innumerable 
speeches.  General  Sutton  made  an  excellent 
address,  which  an  interpreter  translated  into 
Arabic.  Our  Arabian  hosts  were  long-winded, 
and  the  recognized  local  orator  was  so  classical 
in  his  phrases  and  forms  and  tenses  that  it  was 
impossible  to  do  more  than  get  the  general 
drift  of  what  he  said.  Luckily  I  had  in  my 
pocket  a  copy  of  the  Lusiads,  which  I  surrep- 
titiously read  when  the  speeches  became  hope- 
lessly long  drawn  out. 

I  was  allotted  space  on  a  British  India^boat, 
the  TorriUa,  that  was  to  take  to  Egypt  a  field 
artillery  regiment  of  the  Third  Division.  As 
we  dropped  down-stream  and  I  watched  a 


192    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

disconsolate  Yusuf  standing  on  the  dock,  I 
felt  that  another  chapter  had  closed — an  in- 
teresting one  at  that.  I  was  not  left  long  to 
muse  on  what  the  next  would  bring  forth  be- 
fore there  was  a  cry  of  "fire";  and  from  where 
I  was  standing  in  the  smoking-room  I  could 
see,  through  the  open  hatchways,  the  soldiers 
hurrying  about  below  decks.  As  the  ship  was 
well  ballasted  with  ammunition,  anything  that 
happened  would  take  place  quickly,  and  only 
those  on  the  spot  could  hope  to  control  events, 
so  I  stayed  where  I  was.  A  few  minutes  later 
the  fire  was  reported  out. 

The  long  two  weeks'  trip  through  the  Per- 
sian Gulf  and  round  to  the  Red  Sea  was  monot- 
onously peaceful.  Being  "unattached,"  I  had 
no  regular  duties.  Occasionally  I  attended 
"stables,"  and  wandered  around  the  horse 
lines.  The  great  heat  below  decks  had  far  less 
effect  upon  the  horses  than  would  be  supposed. 
Of  course,  they  were  well  cared  for,  and  many 
were  seasoned  veterans  that  had  taken  more 
than  one  long  sea  voyage.  If  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, only  one  was  lost  on  the  trip. 

Most  of  the  time  I  lay  back  in  my  rhoorkhee 
chair  and  read  whatever  I  could  find  in  the 
ship's  library.  The  wireless  broke  down  a  few 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    193 

days  after  we  left  Busra,  so  we  got  no  news 
whatever  of  the  outer  world,  and  soon  ceased 
to  speculate  on  what  might  be  happening  in 
France. 

At  length,  on  the  morning  of  June  4,  we 
dropped  anchor  in  Suez  harbor.  We  had 
hoped  that  the  Torrilla  would  run  through  the 
canal  to  Port  Said,  but  the  disembarkation 
officer  told  us  that  we  were  all  to  be  unloaded 
at  Suez  and  proceed  by  rail.  When  I  reached 
Alexandria  I  learned  that  a  convoy  had  just 
sailed  and  there  would  not  be  another  for  two 
weeks  at  earliest.  Sir  Reginald  Wingate,  who 
had  long  been  a  family  friend,  was  the  British 
High  Commissioner.  Lady  Wingate  and  he 
with  the  utmost  hospitality  insisted  on  my 
moving  out  to  the  residency  to  wait  for  my 
sailing. 

When  I  left  for  Mesopotamia  Lord  Derby 
had  given  me  a  letter  to  General  Allenby 
which  I  had  never  had  an  opportunity  to  pre- 
sent. Sir  Reginald  suggested  that  I  could  not 
do  better  than  make  use  of  this  enforced  delay 
by  going  up  to  Palestine.  The  railway  was 
already  running  to  Jerusalem  and  you  could 
go  straight  through  from  Cairo  with  but  one 
change.  At  Kantara  you  crossed  the  canal 


194    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

and  entered  the  military  zone.  Leaving  there 
at  hah*  past  eleven  in  the  evening  the  train 
reached  Ludd,  which  was  general  headquar- 
ters, at  seven  the  following  morning. 

Every  one  that  I  had  ever  met  who  knew 
General  Allenby  was  wildly  enthusiastic  about 
him,  and  you  had  only  to  be  with  him  a  few 
minutes  to  realize  how  thoroughly  justified 
their  enthusiasm  was.  He  represented  the 
very  highest  type  of  the  British  soldier,  and 
more  need  not  be  said.  On  the  morning  on 
which  I  arrived  an  attack  was  in  progress  and 
we  could  hear  the  drumming  of  the  guns. 
The  commander-in-chief  placed  a  car  at  my 
disposal  and  I  went  around  visiting  old  friends 
that  I  had  made  in  Mesopotamia  or  still 
earlier  in  England,  before  the  war.  Among  the 
latter  was  Colonel  Ronald  Storrs,  the  military 
governor  of  Jerusalem.  With  him  I  spent  sev- 
eral days.  Life  in  the  Holy  City  seemed  but 
little  changed  by  the  war.  There  was  an  in- 
teresting innovation  in  the  Church  of  the  Na- 
tivity at  Bethlehem.  The  different  Christian 
religious  sects,  in  particular  the  Greek  and 
Latin  Catholics,  were  prone  to  come  to  blows 
in  the  church,  and  bloodshed  and  death  had 
more  than  once  been  the  result.  To  obviate 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    195 

this  it  had  been  the  custom  to  have  a  regular 
relief  of  Turkish  soldiers  stationed  in  the 
church.  Their  place  was  now  taken  by  British 
and  French  and  Italians.  Each  nationality  in 
rotation  furnished  the  guard  for  a  day.  At 
the  festival  of  the  distribution  of  the  Sacred 
Fire  from  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  in 
Jerusalem  .there  were  usually  a  number  of 
accidents  caused  by  the  anxiety  to  reach  the 
portal  whence  the  fire  was  given  out.  The 
commander-in-chief  particularly  complimented 
Colonel  Storrs  upon  the  orderly  way  in  which 
this  ceremony  was  conducted  under  his  regime. 
The  population  of  Jerusalem  is  exceedingly 
mixed — and  the  percentage  of  fanatics  is  of 
course  disproportionately  large.  There  are 
many  groups  that  have  been  gathered  together 
and  brought  out  to  the  Holy  Land  with  dis- 
tinctly unusual  purposes.  One  such  always 
had  an  empty  seat  at  their  table  and  con- 
fidently expected  that  Christ  would  some  day 
appear  to  occupy  it.  The  long-haired  Russian 
and  Polish  Jews  with  their  felt  hats  and  shabby 
frock  coats  were  to  be  met  with  everywhere. 
In  the  street  where  the  Jews  meet  to  lament 
the  departed  glory  of  Jerusalem  an  incongru- 
ous and  ludicrous  element  was  added  by  a  few 


196    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

Jews,  their  bowed  heads  covered  with  ancient 
derby  hats,  wailing  with  undefeated  zeal. 

It  is  a  mournful  fact  that  the  one  really  fine 
building  in  Jerusalem  should  be  the  Mosque 
of  Omar — the  famous  "Dome  of  the  Rock." 
This  is  built  on  the  legendary  site  of  the  temple 
of  Solomon,  and  the  mosaics  lining  the  inside 
of  the  dome  are  the  most  beautiful  I  have  ever 
seen.  The  simplicity  is  what  is  really  most 
felt,  doubly  so  because  the  Christian  holy 
places  are  garish  and  tawdry,  with  tin-foil 
and  flowers  and  ornate  carving.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  the  Christians  will  some  day  unite 
and  clean  out  all  the  dreary  offerings  and 
knickknacks  that  clutter  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  Moslems  hold  the  Mosque 
of  Omar  second  in  sanctity  only  to  the  great 
mosque  in  the  holy  city  of  Mecca.  It  is  curi- 
ous, therefore,  that  they  should  not  object  to 
Christians  entering  it.  Mohammedans  enter 
barefoot,  but  we  fastened  large  yellow  slippers 
over  our  shoes,  and  that  was  regarded  as  filling 
all  requirements.  Storrs  pointed  out  to  me 
that  it  was  quite  unnecessary  to  remove  our 
hats,  for  that  is  not  a  sign  of  respect  with 
Moslems,  and  they  keep  on  their  red  fezzes. 
The  mosque  was  built  by  the  Caliph  Abd  el 


A  street  in  Jerusalem 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    197 

Melek,  about  fifty  years  after  Omar  had  cap- 
tured Jerusalem  in  636  A.  D.  Many  of  the 
stones  used  in  building  it  came  from  the  tem- 
ple of  Jupiter.  In  the  centre  lies  the  famous 
rock,  some  sixty  feet  in  diameter,  and  rising 
six  or  seven  feet  above  the  floor  of  the  mosque. 
To  Mohammedans  it  is  more  sacred  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  world  save  the  Black  Stone 
at  Mecca.  Tradition  says  that  it  was  here 
that  Abraham  and  Melchizedek  sacrificed  to 
Jehovah,  and  Abraham  brought  Isaac  as  an 
offering.  Scientists  find  grounds  for  the  belief 
that  it  was  the  altar  of  the  temple  in  the 
traces  of  a  channel  for  carrying  off  the  blood 
of  the  victims.  The  Crusaders  believed  the 
mosque  to  be  the  original  temple  of  Solomon, 
and,  according  to  their  own  reports,  rededi- 
cated  it  with  the  massacre  of  more  than  ten 
thousand  Moslems  who  had  fled  thither  for 
refuge.  The  wrought-iron  screen  that  they 
placed  around  the  rock  still  remains.  The 
cavern  below  is  the  traditional  place  of  wor- 
ship of  many  of  the  great  characters  of  the 
Old  Testament,  such  as  David  and  Solomon 
and  Elijah.  From  it  Mohammed  made  his 
night  journey  to  heaven,  borne  on  his  steed 
El  Burak.  In  the  floor  of  the  cavern  is  an 


198    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

opening  covered  with  a  slab  of  stone,  and  said 
to  go  down  to  the  centre  of  the  world  and  be 
a  medium  for  communicating  with  the  souls 
of  the  departed. 

The  military  governor  has  been  at  work  to 
better  the  sanitary  conditions  in  Jerusalem. 
Hitherto  the  only  water  used  by  the  townsfolk 
had  been  the  rain-water  which  they  gathered  in 
tanks.  Some  years  ago  it  was  proposed  to 
bring  water  to  the  city  in  pipes,  some  of  which 
were  already  laid  before  the  inhabitants  decided 
that  such  an  innovation  could  not  be  tolerated. 
The  British  have  put  in  a  pipe-line,  and  oddly 
enough  it  runs  to  the  same  reservoir  whence 
Pontius  Pilate  started  to  bring  water  by  means 
of  an  aqueduct.  They  have  also  built  some 
excellent  roads  through  the  surrounding  hills. 
Here,  as  in  Mesopotamia,  one  was  struck  by 
the  permanent  nature  of  the  improvements 
that  are  being  made.  Even  to  people  absorbed 
in  their  own  jealousies  and  rivalries  the  advan- 
tages that  they  were  deriving  from  their 
liberation  from  Turkish  rule  must  have  been 
exceedingly  apparent. 

The  situation  in  Palestine  differed  in  many 
ways  from  that  in  Mesopotamia,  but  in  none 
more  markedly  than  in  the  benefits  derived 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    199 

from  the  propinquity  of  Egypt.  Occasional 
leaves  were  granted  to  Cairo  and  Alexandria 
and  they  afforded  the  relaxation  of  a  complete 
change  of  surroundings.  I  have  never  seen 
Cairo  gayer.  Shepherd's  Hotel  was  open  and 
crowded — and  the  dances  as  pleasant  as  any 
that  could  be  given  in  London.  The  beaches 
at  Ramleh,  near  Alexandria,  were  bright  with 
crowds  of  bathers,  and  the  change  afforded  the 
"men  from  up  the  line"  must  have  proved  of 
inestimable  value  in  keeping  the  army  con- 
tented. There  were  beaches  especially  re- 
served for  non-commissioned  officers  and  others 
for  the  privates — while  in  Cairo  sightseeing 
tours  were  made  to  the  pyramids  and  what  the 
guide-books  describe  as  "other  points  of  in- 
terest." 

When  I  left  Mesopotamia  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  there  was  one  man  in  Palestine  whom 
I  would  use  every  effort  to  see  if  I  were  held 
over  waiting  for  a  sailing.  This  man  was 
Major  A.  B.  Paterson,  known  to  every  Aus- 
tralian as  "Banjo"  Paterson.  His  two  most 
widely  read  books  are  The  Man  from  Snowy 
River  and  Rio  Grande's  Last  Race;  both  had 
been  for  years  companions  of  the  entire  fam- 
ily at  home  and  sources  for  daily  quotations, 


200    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

so  I  had  always  hoped  to  some  day  meet  their 
author.  I  knew  that  he  had  fought  in  the 
South  African  War,  and  I  heard  that  he  was 
with  the  Australian  forces  in  Palestine.  As 
soon  as  I  landed  I  asked  every  Australian 
officer  that  I  met  where  Major  Paterson  was, 
for  locating  an  individual  member  of  an  ex- 
peditionary force,  no  matter  how  well  known  he 
may  be,  is  not  always  easy.  Every  one  knew 
him.  I  remember  well  when  I  inquired  at  the 
Australian  headquarters  in  Cairo  how  the  man 
I  asked  turned  to  a  comrade  and  said:  "Say, 
where's  'Banjo5  now?  He's  at  Moascar,  isn't 
he?"  Whether  they  had  ever  met  him  per- 
sonally or  not  he  was  "Banjo"  to  one  and  all. 

On  my  return  to  Alexandria  I  stopped  at 
Moascar,  which  was  the  main  depot  of  the 
Australian  Remount  Service,  and  there  I  found 
him.  He  is  a  man  of  about  sixty,  with  long 
mustaches  and  strong  aquiline  features- 
very  like  the  type  of  American  plainsman  that 
Frederic  Remington  so  well  portrayed.  He 
has  lived  everything  that  he  has  written.  At 
different  periods  of  his  life  he  has  dived  for 
pearls  in  the  islands,  herded  sheep,  broken 
broncos,  and  known  every  chance  and  change 
of  Australian  station  life.  The  Australians  told 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    201 

me  that  when  he  was  at  his  prime  he  was  re- 
garded as  the  best  rider  in  Australia.  A  recent 
feat  about  which  I  heard  much  mention  was 
when  he  drove  three  hundred  mules  straight 
through  Cairo  without  losing  a  single  ani- 
mal, conclusively  proving  his  argument  against 
those  who  had  contested  that  such  a  thing 
could  not  be  done.  Although  he  has  often  been 
in  England,  Major  Paterson  has  never  come 
to  the  United  States.  He  told  me  that  among 
American  writers  he  cared  most  for  the  works 
of  Joel  Chandler  Harris  and  O.  Henry — an 
odd  combination ! 

While  in  Egypt  I  met  a  man  about  whom  I 
had  heard  much,  a  man  whose  career  was  un- 
surpassed in  interest  and  in  the  amount  ac- 
complished by  the  individual.  Before  the  war 
Colonel  Lawrence  was  engaged  in  archaeological 
research  under  Professor  Hogarth  of  Oxford 
University.  Their  most  important  work  was 
in  connection  with  the  excavation  of  a  buried 
city  in  Palestine.  At  the  outbreak  of  hostil- 
ities Professor  Hogarth  joined  the  Naval  In- 
telligence and  rendered  invaluable  services  to 
the  Egyptian  Expeditionary  Forces.  Lawrence 
had  an  excellent  grounding  in  Arabic  and  de- 
cided to  try  to  organize  the  desert  tribes  into 


202    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

bands  that  would  raid  the  Turkish  outposts 
and  smash  their  lines  of  communication.  He 
established  a  body-guard  of  reckless  semiout- 
laws,  men  that  in  the  old  days  in  our  West 
would  have  been  known  as  "bad  men."  They 
became  devoted  to  him  and  he  felt  that  he 
could  count  upon  their  remaining  faithful 
should  any  of  the  tribes  with  which  he  was 
raiding  meditate  treachery.  He  dressed  in 
Arab  costume,  but  as  a  whole  made  no  effort 
to  conceal  his  nationality.  His  method  con- 
sisted in  leading  a  tribe  off  on  a  wild  foray  to 
break  the  railway,  blow  up  bridges,  and  carry 
off  the  Turkish  supplies.  Swooping  down  from 
out  the  open  desert  like  hawks,  they  would 
strike  once  and  be  off  before  the  Turks  could 
collect  themselves.  Lawrence  explained  that 
he  had  to  succeed,  for  if  he  failed  to  carry  off 
any  booty,  his  reputation  among  the  tribes- 
men was  dead — and  no  one  would  follow  him 
thereafter.  What  he  found  hardest  on  these 
raids  was  killing  the  wounded — but  the  dread 
of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Turks  was  so 
great  that  before  starting  it  was  necessary  to 
make  a  compact  to  kill  all  that  were  too  badly 
injured  to  be  carried  away  on  the  camels. 
The  Turks  offered  for  Colonel  Lawrence's  cap- 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    203 

ture  a  reward  of  ten  thousand  pounds  if  dead 
and  twenty  thousand  pounds  if  alive.  His 
added  value  in  the  latter  condition  was  due 
to  the  benefit  that  the  enemy  expected  to  de- 
rive from  his  public  execution.  No  one  who 
has  not  tried  it  can  realize  what  a  long  ride  on 
a  camel  means,  and  although  Lawrence  was 
eager  to  take  with  him  an  Englishman  who 
would  know  the  best  methods  of  blowing  up 
bridges  and  buildings,  he  could  never  find  any 
one  who  was  able  to  stand  the  strain  of  a  long 
journey  on  camel  back. 

Lawrence  told  me  that  he  couldn't  last 
much  longer,  things  had  broken  altogether  too 
well  for  him,  and  they  could  not  continue  to 
do  so.  Scarcely  more  than  thirty  years  of  age, 
with  a  clean-shaven,  boyish  face,  short  and  slen- 
der in  build,  if  one  met  him  casually  among  a  lot 
of  other  officers  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to 
single  him  out  as  the  great  power  among  the 
Arabs  that  he  on  every  occasion  proved  him- 
self to  be.  Lawrence  always  greatly  admired 
the  Arabs — appreciating  their  many-sidedness 
— their  virility — their  ferocity — their  intellect 
and  their  sensitiveness.  I  remember  well  one 
of  the  stories  which  he  told  me.  It  was,  I 
believe,  when  he  was  on  a  long  raid  in  the 


204    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

course  of  which  he  went  right  into  the  out- 
skirts of  Damascus — then  miles  behind  the 
Turkish  lines.  They  halted  at  a  ruined  palace 
in  the  desert.  The  Arabs  led  him  through  the 
various  rooms,  explaining  that  each  was  scented 
with  a  different  perfume.  Although  Lawrence 
could  smell  nothing,  they  claimed  that  one  room 
had  the  odor  of  ambergris — another  of  roses — 
and  a  third  of  jasmine; — at  length  they  came  to 
a  large  and  particularly  ruinous  room.  "This," 
they  said,  "has  the  finest  scent  of  all — the  smell 
of  the  wind  and  the  sun."  I  last  saw  Colonel 
Lawrence  in  Paris,  whither  he  had  brought  the 
son  of  the  King  of  the  Hedjaz  to  attend  the 
Peace  Conference. 

When  I  got  back  to  Alexandria  I  found  that 
the  sailing  of  the  convoy  had  been  still  fur- 
ther delayed.  Three  vessels  out  of  the  last 
one  to  leave  had  been  sunk,  involving  a  con- 
siderable loss  of  life.  The  channel  leading 
from  the  harbor  out  to  sea  is  narrow  and  must 
be  followed  well  beyond  the  entrance,  so  that 
the  submarines  had  an  excellent  chance  to  lay 
in  wait  for  outgoing  boats.  The  greatest 
secrecy  was  observed  with  regard  to  the  date 
of  leaving  and  destination — and  of  course 
troops  were  embarked  and  held  in  the  harbor 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE    205 

for  several  days  so  as  to  avoid  as  far  as  pos- 
sible any  notice  being  given  to  the  lurking 
enemy  by  spies  on  shore. 

The  transports  were  filled  with  units  that 
were  being  hurried  off  to  stem  the  German  tide 
in  France,  so  casual  officers  were  placed  on  the 
accompanying  destroyers  and  cruisers.  I  was 
allotted  to  a  little  Japanese  destroyer,  the  Umi. 
She  was  of  only  about  six  hundred  and  fifty 
tons  burden,  for  this  class  of  boat  in  the  Japa- 
nese navy  is  far  smaller  than  in  ours.  She  was 
as  neat  as  a  pin,  as  were  also  the  crew.  The 
officers  were  most  friendly  and  did  everything 
possible  to  make  things  comfortable  for  a 
landsman  in  their  limited  quarters.  The  first 
meal  on  board  we  all  used  knives  and  forks,  but 
thereafter  they  were  only  supplied  to  me,  while 
the  Japanese  fell  back  upon  their  chop-sticks. 
It  was  a  never-failing  source  of  interest  to 
watch  their  skill  in  eating  under  the  most 
difficult  circumstances.  One  morning  when  the 
boat  was  dancing  about  even  more  than  usual, 
I  came  into  breakfast  to  find  the  steward 
bringing  in  some  rather  underdone  fried  eggs, 
and  thought  that  at  last  I  would  see  the  ship's 
officers  stumped  in  the  use  of  their  chop-sticks. 
Not  a  bit  of  it;  they  had  disposed  of  the  eggs 


206  WAR  IN  THE   GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

in  the  most  unsurpassed  manner  and  were  off 
to  their  duties  before  I  myself  had  finished 
eating. 

We  left  Alexandria  with  an  escort  of  aero- 
planes to  see  us  safely  started,  while  an  obser- 
vation balloon  made  fast  to  a  cruiser  accom- 
panied us  on  the  first  part  of  our  journey.  The 
precautions  were  not  in  vain,  for  two  subma- 
rines were  sighted  a  short  time  after  we  cleared 
the  harbor.  The  traditional  Japanese  efficiency 
was  well  borne  out  by  the  speed  with  which 
our  crew  prepared  for  action.  Every  member 
was  in  his  appointed  place  and  the  guns  were 
stripped  for  action  in  an  incredibly  short  time 
after  the  warning  signal.  It  was  when  we  were 
nearing  the  shores  of  Italy  that  I  had  best  op- 
portunity to  see  the  destroyers  at  work.  We 
sighted  a  submarine  which  let  fly  at  one  of  the 
troopers — the  torpedo  passing  its  bow  and 
barely  missing  the  boat  beyond  it.  Quick  as  a 
flash  the  Japanese  were  after  it — swerving  in 
and  out  like  terriers  chasing  a  rat,  and  let- 
ting drive  as  long  as  it  was  visible.  We  cast 
around  for  the  better  part  of  an  hour,  drop- 
ping overboard  depth  charges  which  shook  the 
little  craft  as  the  explosion  sent  great  fun- 
nels of  water  aloft.  The  familiar  harbor  of 


g, 


if. 

3 
O 


I 

£ 
I 


BACK  THROUGH  PALESTINE     207 

Taranto  was  a  welcome  sight  when  we  at 
length  herded  our  charges  in  through  the  nar- 
row entrance  and  swung  alongside  the  wharf 
where  the  destroyers  were  to  take  in  a  supply 
of  fuel  preparatory  to  starting  out  again  on 
their  interminable  and  arduous  task. 


IX 

With  the  First  Division  in  France 
and  Germany 


IX 

WITH  THE   FIRST   DIVISION   IN 
FRANCE   AND    GERMANY 

I 

My  transfer  to  the  American  army  appointed 
me  as  captain  of  field  artillery  instead  of 
infantry,  as  I  had  wished.  Just  how  the  mis- 
take occurred  I  never  determined,  but  once 
in  the  field  artillery  I  found  that  to  shift  back 
would  take  an  uncertain  length  of  time,  and 
that  even  after  it  was  effected  I  would  be 
obliged  to  take  a  course  at  some  school  before 
going  up  to  the  line.  It  therefore  seemed  ad- 
visable to  go  immediately,  as  instructed,  to  the 
artillery  school  at  Saumur.  The  management 
was  half  French  and  half  American.  Colonel 
MacDonald  and  Colonel  Cross  were  the  Amer- 
icans in  charge,  and  the  high  reputation  of  the 
school  bore  testimony  to  their  efficiency.  It 
was  the  intention  of  headquarters  gradually 
to  replace  all  the  French  instructors  with  Amer- 
icans, but  when  I  was  there  the  former  pre- 
211 


212    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

dominated.  It  was  of  course  necessary  to 
wait  until  our  officers  had  learned  by  actual 
experience  the  use  of  the  French  guns  with 
which  our  army  was  supplied.  When  men  are 
being  taught  what  to  do  in  combat  conditions 
they  apply  themselves  more  attentively  and 
absorb  far  more  when  they  feel  that  the 
officer  teaching  them  has  had  to  test,  under 
enemy  fire,  the  theories  he  is  expounding. 
The  school  was  for  both  officers  and  candi- 
dates. The  latter  were  generally  chosen  from 
among  the  non-commissioned  officers  serving 
at  the  front;  I  afterward  sent  men  down  from 
my  battery.  The  first  part  of  the  course  was 
difficult  for  those  who  had  either  never  had 
much  mathematical  training  or  had  had  it  so 
long  ago  that  they  were  hopelessly  out  of  prac- 
tice. A  number  of  excellent  sergeants  and 
corporals  did  not  have  the  necessary  grounding 
to  enable  them  to  pass  the  examinations.  They 
should  never  have  been  sent,  for  it  merely  put 
them  in  an  awkward  and  humiliating  position 
— although  no  stigma  could  possibly  be  at- 
tached to  them  for  having  failed. 

The  French  officer  commanding  the  field 
work  was  Major  de  Caraman.  His  long  and 
distinguished  service  in  the  front  lines,  com- 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    213 

bined  with  his  initiative  and  ever-ready  tact, 
made  him  an  invaluable  agent  in  welding  the 
ideas  and  methods  of  France  and  America. 
His  house  was  always  filled  with  Americans, 
and  how  much  his  hospitality  meant  to  those 
whose  ties  were  across  the  ocean  must  have 
been  experienced  to  be  appreciated.  The 
homes  of  France  were  ever  thrown  open  to  us, 
and  the  sincere  and  simple  good-will  with  which 
we  were  received  has  put  us  under  a  lasting 
debt  which  we  should  be  only  too  glad  to 
cherish  and  acknowledge. 

Saumur  is  a  delightful  old  town  in  the  heart 
of  the  chateau  country.  The  river  Loire  runs 
through  it,  and  along  the  banks  are  the  caves 
in  some  of  which  have  been  found  the  paint- 
ings made  by  prehistoric  man  picturing  the 
beasts  with  which  he  struggled  for  supremacy 
in  the  dim  dark  ages.  The  same  caves  are 
many  of  them  inhabited,  and  their  owners  may 
well  look  with  scorn  upon  the  chateaux  and 
baronial  castles  of  whose  antiquity  it  is  custom- 
ary to  boast.  There  is  an  impressive  castle 
built  on  a  hill  dominating  the  town,  and  in  one 
of  the  churches  is  hung  an  array  of  tapestries 
of  unsurpassed  color  and  design.  The  country 
round  about  invited  rambling,  and  the  excel- 


214    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

lent  roads  made  it  easy;  particularly  delight- 
ful were  the  strolls  along  the  river-banks,  where 
patient  fisherfolk  of  every  sex  and  age  sat  un- 
perturbed by  the  fact  that  they  never  seemed 
to  catch  anything.  One  old  lady  with  a  sun- 
bonnet  was  always  to  be  seen  seated  on  a 
three-legged  stool  in  the  same  corner  amid  the 
rocks.  She  had  a  rusty  black  umbrella  which 
she  would  open  when  the  rays  of  the  sun  be- 
came too  searching. 

The  buildings  which  were  provided  for  the 
artillery  course  had  formerly  been  used  by  the 
cavalry  school,  probably  the  best  known  hi 
the  world.  Before  the  war  army  officers  of 
every  important  nation  hi  the  Occident  and 
Orient  were  sent  by  their  governments  to  fol- 
low the  course  and  learn  the  method  of  in- 
struction. My  old  friend  Fitzhugh  Lee  was 
one  of  those  sent  by  the  United  States,  and  I 
found  his  record  as  a  horseman  still  alive  and 
fresh  in  the  memory  of  many  of  the  townspeo- 
ple. 

Soon  after  the  termination  of  my  period  of 
instruction  I  was  in  command  of  C  Battery 
of  the  Seventh  Field  Artillery  in  the  Argonne 
fighting.  I  was  standing  one  morning  in  the 
desolate,  shell-ridden  town  of  Landres  et  St. 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    215 

George  watching  a  column  of  "dough -boys" 
coming  up  the  road;  at  their  head  limped  a 
battered  Dodge  car,  and  as  it  neared  me  I 
recognized  my  elder  brother  Ted,  sitting  on  the 
back  seat  in  deep  discussion  with  his  adjutant. 
I  had  believed  him  to  be  safely  at  the  staff  school 
in  Langres  recuperating  from  a  wound,  but  he 
had  been  offered  the  chance  to  come  up  in 
command  of  his  old  regiment,  the  Twenty- 
Sixth,  and  although  registered  as  only  "good 
for  light  duty  in  the  service  of  supply,"  he  had 
made  his  way  back  to  the  division.  While  we 
were  talking  another  car  came  up  and  out  from 
it  jumped  my  brother-in-law,  Colonel  Richard 
Derby — at  that  time  division  surgeon  of  the 
Second  Division.  We  were  the  only  three 
members  of  the  family  left  in  active  service 
since  my  brother  Quentin,  the  aviator,  was 
brought  down  over  the  enemy  lines,  and 
Archie,  severely  wounded  in  leg  and  arm,  had 
been  evacuated  to  the  United  States.  I  well 
remember  how  once  when  Colonel  Derby  in- 
troduced me  to  General  Lejeune,  who  was 
commanding  his  division,  the  general,  instead 
of  making  some  remark  about  my  father,  said : 
"I  shall  always  be  glad  to  meet  a  relative  of  a 
man  with  Colonel  Derby's  record." 


216    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

On  the  llth  of  November  we  had  just 
returned  to  our  original  sector  after  attacking 
Sedan.  None  of  us  placed  much  confidence  in 
an  armistice  being  signed.  We  felt  that  the 
German  would  never  accept  the  terms,  but 
were  confident  that  by  late  spring  or  early  sum- 
mer we  would  be  able  to  bring  about  an  un- 
conditional surrender.  When  the  firing  ceased 
and  the  news  came  through  that  the  enemy  had 
capitulated,  there  was  no  great  show  of  ex- 
citement. We  were  all  too  weary  to  be  much 
stirred  by  anything  that  could  occur.  For  the 
past  two  weeks  we  had  been  switched  hither 
and  yon,  with  little  sleep  and  less  food,  and  a 
constant  decrease  in  our  personnel  and  horses 
that  was  never  entirely  made  good  but  grew 
steadily  more  serious.  The  only  bursts  of 
enthusiasm  that  I  heard  were  occasioned  by 
the  automobile  trucks  and  staff  cars  passing 
by  after  dark  with  their  headlights  blazing. 
The  joyous  shouts  of  "Lights  out!"  testi- 
fied that  the  reign  of  darkness  was  over.  Soon 
the  men  began  building  fires  and  gathering 
about  them,  calling  "Lights  out!"  as  each 
new  blaze  started — a  joke  which  seemed  a 
never-failing  source  of  amusement. 

We  heard  that  we  were  to  march  into  Ger- 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    217 

many  in  the  wake  of  the  evacuating  army  and 
occupy  one  of  the  bridge-heads.  All  this  came 
through  in  vague  and  unconfirmed  form,  but 
in  a  few  days  we  were  hauled  back  out  of  the 
line  to  a  desolate  mass  of  ruins  which  had  once 
been  the  village  of  Bantheville.  We  were  told 
that  we  would  have  five  days  here,  during 
which  we  would  be  reoutfitted  in  every  par- 
ticular. Our  horses  were  in  fearful  shape — 
constant  work  in  the  rain  and  mud  with  very 
meagre  allowance  of  fodder  had  worn  down  the 
toughest  old  campaigners  among  them.  Dur- 
ing the  weary,  endless  night  march  on  Sedan  I 
often  saw  two  horses  leaning  against  each  other 
in  utter  exhaustion — as  if  it  were  by  that  means 
alone  that  they  kept  on  their  feet.  We  were 
told  to  indent  for  everything  that  we  needed 
to  make  our  batteries  complete  as  prescribed 
in  the  organization  charts,  but  we  followed  in- 
structions without  any  very  blind  faith  in  re- 
sults— nor  did  our  lack  of  trust  prove  unwar- 
ranted, for  we  got  practically  nothing  for  which 
we  had  applied. 

There  were  some  colored  troops  near  by  en- 
gaged in  repairing  the  roads,  and  a  number  of 
us  determined  to  get  up  a  quartet  to  sing  for 
the  men.  We  went  to  where  the  negroes  had 


218    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

built  themselves  shelters  from  corrugated-iron 
sheets  and  miscellaneous  bits  of  wreckage  from 
the  town.  We  collected  three  quarters  of  our 
quartet  and  were  directed  to  the  mess-shack 
for  the  fourth.  As  we  approached  I  could  hear 
sounds  of  altercation  and  a  voice  that  we 
placed  immediately  as  that  of  our  quarry  arose 
in  indignant  warning:  "If  yo'  doan'  leggo  that 
mess-kit  I'll  lay  a  barrage  down  on  yo' !"  A 
platform  was  improvised  near  a  blazing  fire  of 
pine  boards  and  we  had  some  excellent  clog- 
ging and  singing.  The  big  basso  had  evidently 
a  strong  feeling  for  his  steel  helmet,  and  it  un- 
doubtedly added  to  his  picturesqueness — set- 
ting off  his  features  with  his  teeth  and  eyes 
gleaming  in  the  firelight. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day  orders 
came  t'o  move  off  on  the  following  morning. 
We  were  obliged  to  discard  much  material,  for 
although  the  two  days'  rest  and  food  had  dis- 
tinctly helped  out  the  horse  situation,  we  had 
many  animals  that  could  barely  drag  them- 
selves along,  much  less  a  loaded  caisson,  and 
our  instructions  were  to  on  no  account  salvage 
ammunition.  We  could  spare  but  one  horse 
for  riding — my  little  mare — and  she  was  no 
use  for  pulling.  She  was  a  wise  little  animal 
with  excellent  gaits  and  great  endurance.  We 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    219 

were  forced  to  leave  behind  another  mare  that 
I  had  ridden  a  good  deal  on  reconnaissances, 
and  that  used  to  amuse  me  by  her  unalterable 
determination  to  stick  to  cover.  It  was  al- 
most impossible  to  get  her  to  cut  across  a 
field;  she  preferred  to  skirt  the  woods  and  had 
no  intention  of  exposing  herself  on  any  sky-line. 
In  spite  of  her  caution  it  was  on  account  of 
wounds  that  she  had  eventually  to  be  aban- 
doned. I  trust  that  the  salvage  parties  found 
her  and  that  she  is  now  reaping  the  reward  of 
her  foresight. 

We  were  a  sorry -looking  outfit  as  we  marched 
away  from  Bantheville.  My  lieutenants  had 
lost  their  bedding-rolls  and  extra  clothes  long 
since — as  every  one  did,  for  it  was  impossible 
to  keep  your  belongings  with  you — and  al- 
though authorized  dumps  were  provided  and 
we  were  told  that  anything  left  behind  would 
be  cared  for,  we  would  be  moved  to  another 
sector  without  a  chance  to  collect  our  excess 
and  practically  everything  would  have  disap- 
peared by  the  time  the  opportunity  came  to 
visit  the  cache.  But  although  the  horses  and 
accoutrements  were  in  bad  shape,  the  men  were 
fit  for  any  task,  and  more  than  ready  to  take  on 
whatever  situation  might  arise. 

Our  destination  was  Malancourt,  no  great 


WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

distance  away,  but  the  roads  were  so  jammed 
with  traffic  that  it  was  long  after  dark  before 
we  reached  the  bleak,  wind-swept  hillside  that 
had  been  allotted  to  us.  It  was  bitterly  cold 
and  we  groped  about  among  the  shattered 
barbed-wire  entanglements  searching  for  wood 
to  light  a  fire.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing shell-craters  in  which  to  sleep — the  ground 
was  so  pockmarked  with  them  that  it  seemed 
impossible  that  it  could  have  been  done  by 
human  agency. 

This  country  had  been  an  "active"  area 
during  practically  all  the  war,  and  the  towns 
had  been  battered  and  beaten  down  first  by 
the  Boche  and  then  by  the  French,  and  lately 
we  ourselves  had  taken  a  hand  in  the  further 
demolition  of  the  ruins.  Many  a  village  was 
recognizable  from  the  encompassing  waste 
only  by  the  sign-board  stuck  in  a  mound  an- 
nouncing its  name.  The  next  day's  march  took 
us  through  Esne,  Montzeville,  and  Bethain- 
ville,  and  on  down  to  the  Verdun-Paris  high- 
way. We  passed  by  historic  "Dead  Man's 
Hill,"  and  not  far  from  there  we  saw  the  mute 
reminders  of  an  attack  that  brought  the  whole 
scene  vividly  back.  There  were  nine  or  ten 
tanks,  of  types  varying  from  the  little  Renault 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY 

to  the  powerful  battleship  sort.  All  had  been 
halted  by  direct  hits,  some  while  still  far  from 
their  objective,  others  after  they  had  reached 
the  wire  entanglements,  and  there  was  one 
that  was  already  astride  of  the  first-line 
trench.  The  continual  sight  of  ruined  towns 
and  desolated  countryside  becomes  very  op- 
pressive, and  it  was  a  relief  when  we  began  to 
pass  through  villages  in  which  many  of  the 
houses  were  still  left  standing;  it  seemed  like 
coming  into  a  new  world. 

At  ten  in  the  evening  I  got  the  battery  into 
Balaicourt.  A  strong  wind  was  blowing  and 
the  cold  was  intense,  so  I  set  off  to  try  to  find 
billets  for  the  men  where  they  could  be  at 
least  partly  sheltered.  The  town  was  all  but 
deserted  by  its  inhabitants,  and  we  managed 
to  provide  every  one  with  some  degree  of 
cover.  Getting  back  into  billets  is  particularly 
welcome  in  very  cold  or  rainy  weather,  and  wre 
all  were  glad  to  be  held  over  a  day  on  the 
wholly  mythical  plea  of  refitting.  Although  the 
time  would  not  be  sufficient  to  make  any  ap- 
preciable effort  in  the  way  of  cleaning  harness 
or  materiel,  the  men  could  at  any  rate  heat 
water  to  wash  their  clothes  and  themselves. 

The  next  day's  march  we  regarded  as  our 


WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

first  in  the  advance  into  Germany  to  which 
we  had  so  long  looked  forward.  We  found 
the  great  Verdun  highway  which  had  played 
such  an  important  part  in  the  defense  that 
broke  the  back  of  the  Hun  to  be  in  excellent 
shape  and  a  pleasant  change  from  the  shell- 
pitted  roads  to  which  we  had  become  accus- 
tomed. It  was  not  without  a  thrill  that  I  rode, 
at  the  head  of  my  battery,  through  the  massive 
south  gate  of  Verdun,  and  followed  the  winding 
streets  of  the  old  city  through  to  the  opposite 
portal.  Before  we  had  gone  many  miles  the 
road  crossed  a  portion  of  the  far-famed  Hin- 
denburg  line  which  had  here  remained  intact 
until  evacuated  by  the  Boche  a  few  days  pre- 
viously under  the  terms  of  the  armistice. 

We  made  a  short  halt  where  a  negro  en- 
gineer regiment  was  at  work  making  the  road 
passable.  A  most  hospitable  officer  strolled 
up  and  asked  if  I  wanted  anything  to  eat,  which 
when  you  are  in  the  army  may  be  classified 
with  Goldberg's  "foolish  questions."  A  sturdy 
coal-black  cook  brought  me  soup  and  roast  beef 
and  coffee,  and  never  have  I  appreciated  the 
culinary  arts  of  the  finest  French  chef  as  I  did 
that  meal,  for  the  food  had  been  cooked,  not 
merely  thrown  into  one  of  the  tureens  of  a 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    223 

rolling  kitchen,  which  was  as  much  as  we  had 
recently  been  able  to  hope  for. 

The  negro  cook  looked  as  if  he  would  have 
been  able  to  emulate  his  French  confrere  of 
whom  Major  de  Caraman  told  me.  The 
Frenchman  was  on  his  way  to  an  outpost  with 
a  steaming  caldron  of  soup.  He  must  have 
lost  the  way,  for  he  unexpectedly  found  him- 
self confronted  by  a  German  who  ordered  him 
to  surrender.  For  reply  the  cook  slammed 
the  soup-dish  over  his  adversary's  head  and 
marched  him  back  a  prisoner.  His  prowess 
was  rewarded  with  a  Croix  de  Guerre. 

It  was  interesting  to  see  the  German  system 
of  defense  when  it  was  still  intact  and  had  not 
been  shattered  by  our  artillery  preparation  as 
it  was  when  taken  in  an  attack.  The  wire 
entanglements  were  miles  in  depth,  and  the 
great  trees  by  the  roadside  were  mined.  This 
was  done  by  cutting  a  groove  three  or  four 
inches  broad  and  of  an  equal  depth  and  filling 
it  with  packages  of  explosive.  I  suppose  the 
purpose  was  to  block  the  road  in  case  of  re- 
treat. Only  a  few  of  the  mines  had  been  set 
off. 

Passing  through  several  towns  that  no  longer 
existed  we  came  to  Etain,  where  many  build- 


224    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

ings  were  still  standing  though  completely 
gutted.  The  cellars  had  been  converted  into 
dugouts  with  passages  and  ramifications  added. 
We  were  billeted  in  some  German  huts  on  the 
outskirts.  They  were  well  dug  in  and  com- 
fortably fitted  out,  so  we  were  ready  to  stay 
over  a  few  days,  as  we  had  been  told  we  should, 
but  at  midnight  orders  were  sent  round  to  be 
prepared  to  march  out  early. 

The  country  was  lovely  and  gave  little  sign 
of  the  Boche  occupation  except  that  it  was 
totally  deserted  and  when  we  passed  through 
villages  all  the  signs  were  in  German.  There 
was  but  little  originality  displayed  in  naming 
the  streets — you  could  be  sure  that  you  would 
find  a  Hindenburg  Strasse  and  a  Kronprinz 
Strasse,  and  there  was  usually  one  called  after 
the  Kaiser.  The  mile-posts  at  the  crossroads 
had  been  mostly  replaced,  but  occasionally  we 
found  battered  metal  plaques  of  the  Automo- 
bile Touring  Club  of  France.  Ever  since  we 
left  Verdun  we  had  been  meeting  bands  of  re- 
leased prisoners,  Italians  and  Russians  chiefly, 
with  a  few  French  and  English  mingled.  They 
were  worn  and  underfed — their  clothes  were  in 
rags.  A  few  had  combined  and  were  pulling 
their  scanty  belongings  on  little  cars,  such  as 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    225 

children  make  out  of  soap-boxes.  The  motor- 
trucks returning  to  our  base  after  bringing  up 
the  rations  would  take  back  as  many  as  they 
could  carry. 

We  came  across  scarcely  any  civilians  until 
we  reached  Bouligny,  a  once  busy  and  pros- 
perous manufacturing  town.  A  few  of  the  in- 
habitants had  been  allowed  to  remain  through- 
out the  enemy  occupation  and  small  groups  of 
those  that  had  been  removed  were  by  now 
trickling  in.  The  invader  had  destroyed  prop- 
erty hi  the  most  ruthless  manner,  and  the 
buildings  were  gutted.  The  domestic  habits 
of  the  Hun  were  always  to  me  inexplicable — he 
evidently  preferred  to  live  in  the  midst  of  his 
own  filth,  and  many  tunes  have  I  seen  recently 
captured  chateaux  that  had  been  converted 
into  veritable  pigsties. 

The  inhabitants  went  wild  at  our  entry — in 
the  little  villages  they  came  out  carrying 
wreaths  and  threw  confetti  and  flowers  as  they 
shouted  the  "Marseillaise."  The  infantry, 
marching  in  advance,  bore  the  brunt  of  the 
celebrations.  What  interested  me  most  were 
the  bands  of  small  children,  many  of  them  cer- 
tainly not  over  five,  dancing  along  the  streets 
singing  their  national  anthem.  It  must  have 


226    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

been  taught  them  in  secret.  In  the  midst  of  a 
band  were  often  an  American  soldier  or  two, 
in  full  swing,  thoroughly  enjoying  themselves. 
The  enthusiasm  was  all  of  it  natural  and  un- 
inspired by  alcohol,  for  the  Germans  had  taken 
with  them  everything  to  drink  that  they  had 
been  unable  to  finish. 

Bouligny  is  not  an  attractive  place — few 
manufacturing  towns  are — but  we  got  the  men 
well  billeted  under  water-tight  roofs,  and  we 
were  able  to  heat  water  for  washing.  My 
striker  found  a  large  caldron  and  I  luxuriated 
in  a  steaming  bath,  the  first  in  over  a  month, 
and,  what  was  more,  I  had  some  clean  clothes 
to  pull  on  when  I  got  out. 

One  evening,  when  returning  from  a  near-by 
village,  I  met  a  frock-coated  civilian  who  in- 
quired of  me  in  German  the  way  to  Etain.  I 
asked  him  who  he  was  and  what  he  wanted. 
He  answered  that  he  was  a  German  but  was 
tired  of  his  country  and  wished  to  go  almost 
anywhere  else.  He  seemed  altogether  too  ap- 
parent to  be  a  spy,  and  even  if  he  were  I  could 
not  make  out  any  object  that  he  could  gain. 
I  have  often  wondered  what  became  of  him. 

The  Boches  had  evidently  not  expected  to 
give  up  their  conquests,  for  they  had  built  an 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    227 

enormous  stone-and-brick  fountain  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  town,  and  chiselled  its  name,  "Hin- 
denburg  Brunnen."  Above  the  German  can- 
teen or  commissary  shop  was  a  great  wooden 
board  with  "Gott  strafe  England" — a  curi- 
ous proof  of  how  bitterly  the  Huns  hated  Great 
Britain,  for  there  were  no  British  troops  in  the 
sectors  in  front  of  this  part  of  the  invaded 
territory. 

We  worked  hard  "policing  up"  ourselves 
and  our  equipment  during  the  few  days  we 
stayed  at  Bouligny.  One  morning  all  the 
townsfolk  turned  out  in  their  best  clothes, 
which  had  been  buried  in  the  cellars  or  hidden 
behind  the  rafters  in  the  attics,  to  greet  the 
President  and  Madame  Poincare,  who  were 
visiting  the  most  important  of  the  liberated 
towns.  It  was  good  to  hear  the  cheering  and 
watch  the  beaming  faces. 

On  November  21  we  resumed  our  march. 
Close  to  the  border  we  came  upon  a  large  Ger- 
man cemetery,  artistically  laid  out,  with  a 
group  of  massive  statuary  in  the  centre.  There 
were  some  heroic-size  granite  statues  of  Boche 
soldiers  in  full  kit  with  helmet  and  all,  that  were 
particularly  fine.  As  we  passed  the  stones 
marking  the  boundary-line  between  France 


228    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

and  Lorraine  there  was  a  tangible  .feeling  of 
making  history,  and  it  was  not  without  a 
thrill  that  we  entered  Aumetz  and  heard  the 
old  people  greet  us  in  French  while  the  chil- 
dren could  speak  only  German.  The  town  was 
gay  with  the  colors  of  France — produced  from 
goodness  knows  where.  Children  were  bal- 
ancing themselves  on  the  barrels  of  aban- 
doned German  cannon  and  climbing  about 
the  huge  camouflaged  trucks.  We  were  now 
where  France,  Luxemburg,  and  Lorraine  meet, 
and  all  day  we  skirted  the  borders  of  first  one 
and  then  the  other,  halting  for  the  night  at  the 
French  town  of  Villerupt.  The  people  went 
wild  when  we  rode  in — we  were  the  first  sol- 
diers of  the  Allies  they  had  seen,  for  the  Ger- 
mans entered  immediately  after  the  declara- 
tion of  war,  and  the  only  poilus  the  townsfolk 
saw  were  those  that  were  brought  in  as  pris- 
oners. We  were  welcomed  in  the  town  hall — 
the  German  champagne  was  abominable  but  the 
reception  was  whole-hearted  and  the  speeches 
were  sincere  in  their  jubilation. 

I  was  billeted  with  the  mayor,  Monsieur 
Georges.  After  dinner  he  produced  two  grimy 
bottles  of  Pol  Roger — he  said  that  he  had  been 
forced  to  change  their  hiding-place  four  times, 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    229 

and  had  just  dug  them  up  in  his  cellar.  They 
were  destined  for  the  night  of  liberation. 
Monsieur  Georges  was  thin  and  worn;  he  had 
spent  two  years  in  prison  in  solitary  confine- 
ment for  having  given  a  French  prisoner  some 
bread.  His  eighteen-year-old  daughter  was 
imprisoned  for  a  year  because  she  had  not  in- 
formed the  authorities  as  to  what  her  father 
had  done.  No  one  in  the  family  would  learn  a 
single  word  of  German.  They  said  that  all 
French  civilians  were  forced  to  salute  the 
Germans,  and  each  Sunday  every  one  was  com- 
pelled to  appear  in  the  market-place  for  gen- 
eral muster.  The  description  of  the  departure 
of  their  hated  oppressors  was  vivid — the  men 
behind  the  lines  knew  the  full  portent  of  events 
and  were  sullen  and  crestfallen,  but  the  sol- 
diers fresh  from  the  front  believed  that  Ger- 
many had  won  and  was  dictating  her  own  terms; 
they  came  through  with  wreaths  hung  on  their 
bayonets  singing  songs  of  victory. 

I  had  often  wondered  how  justly  the  food 
supplies  sent  by  America  for  the  inhabitants 
of  the  invaded  districts  were  distributed. 
Monsieur  Georges  assured  me  that  the  Ger- 
mans were  scrupulously  careful  in  this  matter, 
because  they  feared  that  if  they  were  not,  the 


230    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

supplies  would  no  longer  be  sent,  and  this 
would  of  course  encroach  upon  their  own  re- 
sources, for  even  the  Hun  could  not  utterly 
starve  to  death  the  captured  French  civilians. 
The  mayor  told  me  of  the  joy  the  shipments 
brought  and  how  when  the  people  went  to 
draw  their  rations  they  called  it  "going  to 
America."  We  sat  talking  until  far  into  the 
night  before  I  retired  to  the  luxury  of  a  real 
bed  with  clean  linen  sheets.  There  was  no 
trouble  whatever  in  billeting  the  men — the 
townsmen  were  quarrelling  as  to  who  should 
have  them. 

Next  morning,  with  great  regret  at  so  soon 
leaving  our  willing  hosts,  we  marched  off  into 
the  little  Duchy  of  Luxemburg.  We  passed 
through  the  thriving  city  of  Esch  with  its 
great  iron-mines.  The  streets  were  gay  with 
flags,  there  were  almost  as  many  Italian  as 
French,  for  there  is  a  large  Italian  colony,  the 
members  of  which  are  employed  in  mining  and 
smelting.  Brass  bands  paraded  in  our  honor, 
and  we  were  later  met  by  them  in  many  of  the 
smaller  towns.  The  shops  seemed  well  filled, 
but  the  prices  were  very  high.  The  Germans 
seemed  to  have  left  the  Luxemburgers  very 
much  to  themselves,  and  I  have  little  doubt 
but  that  they  would  have  been  at  least  as 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    231 

pleased  to  welcome  victorious  Boches  had  af- 
fairs taken  a  different  turn.  Still  they  were 
glad  to  see  us,  for  it  meant  the  end  of  the  isola- 
tion in  which  they  had  been  living  and  the 
eventual  advent  of  foodstuffs. 

As  we  rode  along,  the  countryside  was  lovely 
and  the  smiling  fields  and  hillsides  made  "ex- 
cursions and  alarums"  seem  remote  indeed.  It 
felt  unnatural  to  pass  through  a  village  with 
unscarred  church  spires  and  houses  all  intact — 
such  a  change  from  battered,  glorious  France. 

We  were  immediately  in  the  wake  of  the 
German  army,  and  taken  by  and  large  they 
inust  have  been  retiring  in  good  order,  for  they 
left  little  behind.  Our  first  night  we  spent  at 
the  village  of  Syren,  eight  kilometres  from  the 
capital  of  the  Duchy.  Billeting  was  not  so 
easy  now,  for  we  were  ordered  to  treat  the  in- 
habitants as  neutrals,  and  when  they  objected 
we  couldn't  handle  the  situation  as  we  did 
later  on  in  Germany.  No  one  likes  to  have 
soldiers  or  civilians  quartered  on  him,  and  the 
Luxemburgers  were  friendly  to  us  only  as  a 
matter  of  policy.  Fortunately,  the  chalk  marks 
of  the  Boche  billeting  officers  had  not  been 
washed  off  the  doors,  and  these  told  us  how 
many  men  had  been  lodged  in  a  given  house. 

In  my  lodging  I  was  accorded  a  most  friendly 


reception,  for  my  hostess  was  French.  Her 
nephew  had  come  up  from  Paris  to  visit  her  a 
few  months  before  the  outbreak  of  the  war, 
and  had  been  unable  to  get  back  to  France. 
To  avoid  the  dreaded  internment  camp  he  had 
successfully  passed  as  a  Luxemburger.  In  the 
regiment  there  were  a  number  of  men  whose 
parents  came  from  the  Duchy;  these  and  a 
few  more  who  spoke  German  acquired  a  sud- 
den popularity  among  their  comrades.  They 
would  make  friends  with  some  of  the  villagers 
and  arrange  to  turn  over  their  rations  so  that 
they  would  be  cooked  by  the  housewife  and 
eaten  with  the  luxurious  accompaniment  of 
chair  and  table.  The  diplomat  would  invite 
a  few  friends  to  enjoy  with  him  the  welcome 
change  from  the  "slum"  ladled  out  of  the  cal- 
drons of  the  battery  rolling  kitchen.  I  had  al- 
ways supposed  that  I  had  in  my  battery  a  large 
number  of  men  who  could  speak  German — 
a  glance  over  the  pay-roll  would  certainly  leave 
that  impression — but  when  I  came  to  test  it 
out,  I  found  that  I  had  but  four  men  who  spoke 
sufficiently  well  to  be  of  any  use  as  interpreters. 
Next  morning  we  made  a  winding,  round- 
about march  to  Trintange.  Here  we  were  in- 
structed to  settle  down  for  a  week  or  ten  days' 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    233 

halt,  and  many  worse  places  might  have  been 
chosen.  The  country  was  very  broken,  with 
hills  and  ravines.  Little  patches  of  woodland 
and  streams  dashing  down  rocky  channels  on 
their  way  to  join  the  Moselle  reminded  one  of 
Rock  Creek  Park  in  Washington.  The  weather 
couldn't  be  bettered;  sharp  and  cold  in  the 
early  morning  with  a  heavy  hoarfrost  spread- 
ing its  white  mantle  over  everything,  then  out 
would  come  the  sun,  and  the  hills  would  be 
shrouded  in  mist. 

My  billeting  officer  had  arranged  matters 
well,  so  we  were  comfortably  installed  and  in 
good  shape  to  "police  up"  for  the  final  leg  of 
the  march  to  Coblenz.  I  had  now  my  full 
allowance  of  officers — Lieutenants  Furness, 
Brown,  Middleditch,  and  Pearce.  In  active 
warfare  discipline  while  stricter  in  some  ways 
is  more  lax  in  others,  and  there  were  many 
small  points  that  required  furbishing.  Close 
order  drill  on  foot  is  always  a  great  help  in 
stiffening  up  the  men,  and  such  essentials  as 
instruction  in  driving  and  in  fitting  harness 
required  much  attention.  In  the  American 
army  much  less  responsibility  is  given  to  the 
sergeants  and  corporals  than  in  the  British, 
but  even  so  the  spirit  and  efficiency  of  an  or- 


234    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

ganization  must  depend  largely  on  its  non- 
commissioned officers.  We  were  fortunate  in 
having  an  unusually  fine  lot — Sergeant  Gush- 
ing was  a  veteran  of  the  Spanish  War.  He  had 
been  a  sailor  for  many  years,  and  after  he  left 
the  sea  he  became  chief  game  warden  of  Massa- 
chusetts. In  tune  of  stress  he  was  a  tower  of 
strength  and  could  be  counted  upon  to  set  his 
men  an  example  of  cool  and  judicious  daring. 
The  first  sergeant,  Armstrong,  was  an  old 
regular  army  man,  and  his  knowledge  of  drill 
and  routine  was  invaluable  to  us.  He  thor- 
oughly understood  his  profession,  and  was  re- 
markably successful  in  training  raw  men. 
Sergeants  Grumbling,  Kubelis,  and  Bauer  were 
all  of  them  excellent  men,  and  could  be  relied 
upon  to  perform  their  duty  with  conscien- 
tious thoroughness  under  the  most  trying  con- 
dition *. 

One  afternoon  I  went  in  to  Luxemburg  with 
Colonel  Collins,  the  battalion  commander. 
The  town  looks  thoroughly  mediaeval  as  you 
approach.  It  might  well  have  been  over  its 
castle  wall  that  Kingsley's  knight  spurred  his 
horse  on  his  last  leap;  as  a  matter  of  fact  the 
village  of  Altenahr,  where  the  poet  laid  the 
scene,  is  not  so  many  miles  away.  The  town 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    235 

is  built  along  the  ragged  cliffs  lining  a  deep, 
rocky  canyon  spanned  by  old  stone  bridges. 
The  massive  entrance-gates  open  upon  pas- 
sages tunnelled  through  the  hills,  and  although 
the  modern  part  of  the  town  boasts  broad 
streets  and  squares,  there  are  many  narrow 
passageways  winding  around  the  ancient 
quarter. 

I  went  into  a  large  bookstore  to  replenish 
my  library,  and  was  struck  by  the  supply  of 
post-cards  of  Marshal  Foch  and  Kitchener  and 
the  King  and  Queen  of  Belgium.  All  had  been 
printed  in  Leipzig,  and  when  I  asked  the  book- 
seller how  that  could  be,  he  replied  that  he  got 
them  from  the  German  commercial  travellers. 
He  said  that  he  had  himself  been  surprised  at 
the  samples  shown  him,  but  the  salesman  had 
remarked  that  he  thought  such  post-cards 
would  have  a  good  sale  in  Luxemburg,  and  if 
such  were  the  case  "business  was  business," 
and  he  was  prepared  to  supply  them.  There 
was  even  one  of  King  Albert  standing  with 
drawn  sword,  saying:  "You  shall  not  violate 
the  sacred  soil  of  my  country."  A  publication 
that  also  interested  me  was  a  weekly  paper 
brought  out  in  Hamburg  and  written  in  Eng- 
lish. It  was  filled  with  jokes,  beneath  which 


236    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

were  German  notes  explaining  any  difficult  or 
idiomatic  words  and  phrases.  With  all  their 
hatred  of  England  the  Huns  still  continued  to 
learn  English. 

Thanksgiving  Day  came  along,  and  we  set 
to  work  to  provide  some  sort  of  a  special  feast 
for  the  men.  It  was  most  difficult  to  do  so,  for 
the  exchange  had  not  as  yet  been  regulated 
and  the  lowest  rate  at  which  we  could  get  marks 
was  at  a  franc,  and  usually  it  was  a  franc 
and  a  quarter.  Some  one  opportunely  arrived 
from  Paris  with  a  few  hundred  marks  that  he 
had  bought  at  sixty  centimes.  For  the  officers 
we  got  a  suckling  pig,  which  Mess  Sergeant 
Braun  roasted  in  the  priest's  oven.  He  even 
put  the  traditional  baked  apple  in  its  mouth, 
a  necessary  adjunct,  the  purpose  of  which  I 
have  never  discovered,  and  such  stuffing  as  he 
made  has  never  been  equalled.  We  washed  it 
down  with  excellent  Moselle  wine,  for  we  were 
but  a  couple  of  miles  from  the  vineyards  along 
the  river.  In  the  afternoon  I  borrowed  a 
bicycle  from  the  burgomaster  and  trailed  over 
to  Elmen,  where  I  found  my  brother  just  about 
to  sit  down  to  his  Thanksgiving  dinner  served 
up  by  two  faithful  Chinamen,  who  had  come 
to  his  regiment  in  a  draft  from  the  West  Coast. 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    237 

After  doing  full  justice  to  his  fare  I  wended  my 
way  back  to  Trintange  in  the  rain  and  dark. 

The  next  day  we  paid  the  men.  For  some  it 
was  the  first  tune  in  ten  months.  To  draw 
pay  it  was  necessary  to  sign  the  pay-roll  at  the 
end  of  one  month  and  be  on  hand  at  the  end 
of  the  following  month  to  receive  the  money. 
No  one  could  sign  unless  his  service  record 
was  at  hand,  and  as  this  was  forwarded  to 
the  hospital  "through  military  channels"  when 
a  man  was  evacuated  sick  or  wounded,  it 
rarely  reached  his  unit  until  several  months 
after  he  returned.  It  may  easily  be  seen  why 
it  was  that  an  enlisted  man  often  went  for 
months  without  being  able  to  draw  his  pay. 
This  meant  not  only  a  hardship  to  him  while 
he  was  without  money,  but  it  also  followed 
that  when  he  got  it  he  had  a  greater  amount 
than  he  could  possibly  need,  and  was  more 
than  apt  to  gamble  or  drink  away  his  sudden 
accession  of  wealth.  We  always  tried  to  make 
a  man  who  had  drawn  a  lot  of  back  pay  de- 
posit it  or  send  it  home.  Mr.  Harlow,  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  secretary  attached  to  the  regi- 
ment, helped  us  a  great  deal  in  getting  the 
money  transferred  to  the  United  States.  The 
men,  unless  they  could  spend  their  earnings 


238    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

immediately,  would  start  a  game  of  craps  and 
in  a  few  days  all  the  available  cash  would  have 
found  its  way  into  the  pocket  of  the  luckiest 
man.  They  would  throw  for  appallingly 
high  stakes.  On  this  particular  pay-day  we 
knew  that  the  supply  of  wine  and  beer  in  the 
village  was  not  sufficient  to  cause  any  serious 
trouble,  and  orders  were  given  that  no  cognac 
or  hard  liquor  should  be  sold.  A  few  always 
managed  to  get  it — all  precautions  to  the  con- 
trary notwithstanding. 

n 

On  the  1st  of  December  we  once  more  re- 
sumed our  march  and  at  Wormeldange  crossed 
over  the  Moselle  River  into  Hunland.  The 
streets  of  the  first  town  through  which  we 
passed  were  lined  with  civilians,  many  of  them 
only  just  out  of  uniform,  and  they  scowled  at 
us  as  we  rode  by,  muttering  below  their  breath. 
A  short  way  out  and  we  began  to  meet  men 
still  in  the  field-gray  uniform;  they  smiled  and 
tried  to  make  advances  but  our  men  paid  no 
attention.  When  we  reached  Onsdorf,  which 
was  our  destination,  the  billeting  officer  re- 
ported that  he  had  met  with  no  difficulty. 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    239 

The  inhabitants  were  most  effusive  and  anxious 
to  please  in  every  way.  Of  course  they  were 
not  Prussians,  and  no  doubt  were  heartily 
tired  and  sick  of  war,  but  here,  as  throughout, 
their  attitude  was  most  distasteful  to  us — it 
was  so  totally  lacking  in  dignity.  We  could 
not  tell  how  much  they  were  acting  on  their 
own  initiative  and  to  what  extent  they  were  fol- 
lowing instructions.  Probably  there  was  some- 
thing of  both  back  of  their  conduct.  Warn- 
ings had  been  issued  that  the  Germans  were 
reported  to  be  planning  a  wholesale  poison- 
ing of  American  officers,  but  I  never  saw  any- 
thing to  substantiate  the  belief. 

Next  morning  we  struck  across  to  the  Saar 
River  and  followed  it  down  to  its  junction  with 
the  Moselle.  The  woods  and  ravines  were 
lovely,  but  from  the  practical  standpoint  the 
going  was  very  hard  upon  the  horses.  We 
marched  down  through  Treves,  the  oldest  town 
in  Germany,  with  a  population  of  about  thirty 
thousand.  In  the  fourth  century  of  our  era 
Ausonius  referred  to  it  as  "Rome  beyond  the 
Alps,"  and  the  extent  and  variety  of  the  Roman 
remains  would  seem  to  justify  the  epithet. 
We  were  halted  for  some  time  beside  the  most 
remarkable  of  these,  the  Porta  Nigra,  a  huge 


240    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

fortified  gateway,  dating  from  the  first  cen- 
tury A.  D.  The  cathedral  is  an  impressive 
conglomeration  of  the  architecture  of  many  dif- 
ferent centuries — the  oldest  portion  being  a 
part  of  a  Roman  basilica  of  the  fourth  century, 
while  the  latest  additions  of  any  magnitude 
were  made  in  the  thirteenth.  Most  famous 
among  its  treasures  is  the  "holy  coat  of 
Treves,"  believed  by  the  devout  to  be  the 
seamless  garment  worn  by  Christ  at  the  cruci- 
fixion. The  predominant  religion  of  the  neigh- 
borhood is  the  Roman  Catholic,  and  on  the 
occasions  when  the  coat  is  exhibited  the  town 
is  thronged  by  countless  pilgrims. 

Leaving  Treves  we  continued  down  along 
the  river-bank  to  Rawen  Kaulin,  where  we 
turned  inland  for  a  few  miles  and  I  was  as- 
signed to  a  village  known  as  Eitelsbach.  The 
inhabitants  were  badly  frightened  when  we 
rode  in — most  of  the  men  hid  and  the  women 
stood  on  the  door-steps  weeping.  I  suppose 
they  expected  to  be  treated  in  the  manner 
that  they  had  behaved  to  the  French  and 
Belgians,  and  as  they  would  have  done  by  us 
had  the  situation  been  reversed.  When  they 
found  they  were  not  to  be  oppressed  they  be- 
came servile  and  fawning.  I  had  my  officers' 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    241 

mess  in  the  schoolmaster's  house.  He  had 
been  a  non-commissioned  officer  of  infantry, 
and  yet  he  wanted  to  send  his  daughters  in  to 
play  the  piano  for  us  after  dinner.  We  would 
have  despised  the  German  less  if  he  had  been 
able  to  "hate"  a  little  more  after  he  was  beaten 
and  not  so  bitterly  while  he  felt  he  was  winning. 
The  country  through  which  we  marched  dur- 
ing the  next  few  days  was  most  beautiful.  We 
followed  the  winding  course  of  the  river,  mak- 
ing many  a  double  "S"  turn.  The  steep  hills 
came  right  to  the  bank;  frequently  the  road 
was  cut  into  their  sides.  A  village  was  tucked 
in  wherever  a  bit  of  level  plain  between  the 
foot  of  the  hill  and  the  river  permitted.  When 
the  slopes  gave  a  southern  exposure  they  were 
covered  with  grape-vines,  planted  with  the 
utmost  precision  and  regularity.  Every  corner 
and  cranny  among  the  rocks  was  utilized. 
The  original  planting  must  have  been  difficult, 
for  the  soil  was  covered  with  slabs  of  shale. 
The  cultivator  should  develop  excellent  lungs 
in  scaling  those  hillsides.  The  leaves  had  fallen 
and  the  bare  vines  varied  in  hue  from  sepia 
brown  to  wine  color,  with  occasional  patches 
of  evergreen  to  set  off  the  whole.  Once  or 
twice  the  road  left  the  river  to  cut  across  over 


WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  mountains,  and  it  cost  our  horses  much 
exertion  to  drag  the  limbers  up  the  steep, 
slippery  trail.  It  was  curious  to  notice  the 
difference  between  those  who  dwelt  along  the 
bank  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  upland  pla- 
teau. The  latter  appeared  distinctly  more 
"outlandish"  and  less  sleek  and  prosperous. 
The  highlands  we  found  veiled  in  mist,  and  as 
I  looked  back  at  the  dun  outlines  of  horse  and 
man  and  caisson,  it  seemed  as  if  I  were  leading 
a  ghost  battery. 

We  were  in  the  heart  of  the  wine  country,  and 
to  any  one  who  had  enjoyed  a  good  bottle  of 
Moselle  such  names  as  Berncastel  and  Piesport 
had  long  been  familiar.  In  the  former  town  I 
was  amused  on  passing  by  a  large  millinery 
store  to  see  the  proprietor's  name  was  Jacob 
Astor.  The  little  villages  inevitably  recalled 
the  fairy-tales  of  Hans  Andersen  and  the 
Grimm  brothers.  The  raftered  houses  had 
timbered  balconies  that  all  but  met  across  the 
crooked,  winding  streets  through  which  we 
clattered  over  the  cobblestones.  Capping 
many  of  the  beams  were  gargoyles,  demons,  and 
dwarfs,  and  a  galaxy  of  strange  creatures  were 
carved  on  the  ends  of  the  gables  that  jutted 
out  every  which  way.  The  houses  often  had 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    243 

the  date  they  were  built  and  the  initials  of  the 
couple  that  built  them  over  the  front  door, 
frequently  with  some  device.  I  saw  no  dates 
that  went  further  back  than  the  late  sixteen 
hundreds,  though  many  of  the  houses  doubt- 
less were  built  before  then.  The  doors  in  some 
cases  were  beautifully  carved  and  weathered. 
The  old  pumps  and  wells,  the  stone  bridges, 
and  the  little  wayside  shrines  took  one  back 
through  the  centuries.  To  judge  by  the  rec- 
ords carved  on  wall  and  house,  high  floods  are 
no  very  uncommon  occurrence — the  highest  I 
noticed  was  in  1685,  while  the  last  one  of  im- 
portance was  credited  to  1892. 

We  were  much  surprised  at  the  well-fed  ap- 
pearance of  the  population,  both  old  and  young, 
for  we  had  heard  so  much  of  food  shortages, 
and  the  Germans  when  they  surrendered  had 
laid  such  stress  upon  it.  As  far  as  we  could 
judge,  food  was  more  plentiful  than  in  France. 
Rubber  and  leather  were  very  scarce,  many  of 
the  women  wore  army  boots,  and  the  shoes 
displayed  in  shop-windows  appeared  made  of 
some  composition  resembling  pasteboard.  The 
coffee  was  evidently  ground  from  the  berry  of 
some  native  bush,  and  its  taste  in  no  way  re- 
sembled the  real.  Cigars  were  camouflaged 


244    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

cabbage-leaves,  with  little  or  no  flavor,  and 
the  beer  sadly  fallen  off  from  its  pre-war  glory. 
Still,  in  all  the  essentials  of  life  the  inhabitants 
appeared  to  be  making  out  far  better  than  we 
had  been  given  to  believe. 

We  met  with  very  little  trouble.  There  were 
a  few  instances  where  people  tried  to  stand  out 
against  having  men  billeted  in  their  houses, 
but  we  of  course  paid  no  attention  except 
that  we  saw  to  it  that  they  got  more  men  than 
they  would  have  under  ordinary  circumstances. 
Every  now  and  then  we  would  have  amusing 
side-lights  upon  the  war  news  on  which  the 
more  ignorant  Boches  had  been  fed.  A  man 
upon  whom  several  of  my  sergeants  were  quar- 
tered asked  them  if  the  Zeppelins  had  done 
much  damage  to  New  York;  and  whether  Bos- 
ton and  Philadelphia  had  yet  been  evacuated 
by  the  Germans — he  had  heard  that  both  cities 
had  been  taken  and  that  Washington  was 
threatened  and  its  fall  imminent. 

Our  men  behaved  exceedingly  well.  Of 
course  there  were  individual  cases  of  drunken- 
ness, but  very  few  considering  that  we  were 
in  a  country  where  the  wine  was  cheap  and 
schnapps  plentiful.  There  were  the  inevitable 
A.  W.  O.  L.'s  and  a  number  of  minor  offenses, 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    245 

but  I  found  that  by  making  the  prisoner's  life 
very  unattractive — seeing  to  it  that  they  per- 
formed distasteful  "fatigues,"  giving  them 
heavy  packs  to  carry  when  we  marched,  and 
allowing  them  nothing  that  could  be  construed 
as  a  delicacy — I  soon  reformed  the  few  men 
that  were  chronically  shiftless  or  untidy  or  late. 
When  not  in  cantonments  the  trouble  with 
putting  men  under  arrest  is  that  too  often  it 
only  means  that  they  lead  an  easier  life  than 
their  comrades,  and  it  takes  some  ingenuity 
to  correct  this  situation.  Whenever  it  was  in 
any  way  possible  an  offender  was  dealt  with 
in  the  battery  and  I  never  let  it  go  further,  for 
I  found  it  made  for  much  better  spirit  in  a  unit. 
The  men  were  a  fine  lot,  and  such  thorough- 
going Americans,  no  matter  from  what  country 
their  parents  had  come.  One  of  my  buglers 
had  landed  in  the  United  States  only  in  1913; 
he  had  been  born  and  brought  up  on  the  con- 
fines of  Germany  and  Austria,  and  yet  when  a 
large  German  of  whom  he  was  asking  the  way 
said,  "You  speak  the  language  well — your 
parents  must  be  German,*'  the  unhesitating 
reply  was:  "Well,  my  mother  was  of  German 
descent ! "  The  battery  call  read  like  a  League 
of  Nations,  but  no  one  could  have  found  any 


246    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

cause  of  complaint  in  lack  of  loyalty  to  the 
United  States. 

The  twelfth  day  after  we  had  crossed  over 
the  river  from  Luxemburg  found  us  marching 
into  Coblenz.  We  were  quartered  in  large 
brick  barracks  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city. 
The  departing  Germans  had  left  them  in  very 
bad  shape,  and  Hercules  would  have  felt  that 
cleaning  the  Augean  stables  was  a  light  task  in 
comparison.  However,  we  set  to  work  with- 
out delay  and  soon  had  both  men  and  horses 
well  housed.  Life  in  the  town  was  following 
its  normal  course;  the  stores  were  well  stocked 
and  seemed  to  be  doing  a  thriving  trade.  We 
went  into  a  cafe  where  a  good  orchestra  was 
playing  and  had  some  very  mediocre  war  beer, 
and  then  I  set  off  in  search  of  the  Turkish  bath 
of  which  I  was  much  in  need.  The  one  I  found 
was  in  charge  of  an  ex-submarine  sailor,  and 
when  I  was  shut  in  the  steam-room  I  won- 
dered if  he  were  going  to  try  any  "frightful- 
ness,"  for  I  was  the  only  person  in  the  bath. 
My  last  one  had  been  in  a  wine- vat  a  full  week 
before,  and  I  was  ready  to  risk  anything  for 
the  luxury  of  a  good  soak. 

Orders  to  march  usually  reached  us  at  mid- 
night— why,  I  do  not  know;  but  we  would  turn 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    247 

in  with  the  belief  that  we  would  not  move  on 
the  following  day,  and  the  next  we  knew  an 
orderly  from  regimental  headquarters  would 
wake  us  with  marching  instructions,  and  in  no 
happy  frame  of  mind  we  would  grumblingly 
tumble  out  to  issue  the  necessary  commands. 
Coblenz  proved  no  exception  to  this  rule.  As 
we  got  under  way,  a  fine  rain  was  falling 
that  was  not  long  in  permeating  everything. 
Through  the  misty  dripping  town  the  "cais- 
sons went  rolling  along,"  and  out  across  the 
Pfaffendorf  bridge,  with  the  dim  outlines  of 
the  fortress  of  Ehrenbreitstein  towering  above 
us.  The  men  were  drowsy  and  cold.  I  heard  a 
few  disparaging  comments  on  the  size  of 
the  Rhine.  They  had  heard  so  much  talk 
about  it  that  they  had  expected  to  find  it  at 
least  as  large  as  the  Mississippi.  We  found 
the  slippery  stones  of  the  street  ascending 
from  the  river  most  difficult  to  negotiate,  but 
at  length  everything  was  safely  up,  and  we 
struck  off  toward  the  bridge-head  position 
which  we  were  to  occupy  for  we  knew  not  how 
long.  The  Huns  had  torn  down  the  sign-posts 
at  the  crossroads;  with  what  intent  I  cannot 
imagine,  for  the  roads  were  not  complicated 
and  were  clearly  indicated  on  the  maps,  and 


248    WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

the  only  purpose  that  the  sign-posts  could 
serve  was  to  satisfy  a  curiosity  too  idle  to 
cause  us  to  calculate  by  map  how  far  we  had 
come  or  what  distance  lay  still  before  us.  A 
number  of  great  stone  slabs  attracted  our  at- 
tention ;  they  had  been  put  up  toward  the  close 
of  the  eighteenth  century  and  indicated  the 
distance  in  hours.  I  remember  one  that  pro- 
claimed it  was  three  hours  to  Coblenz  and 
eighteen  to  Frankfort.  I  have  never  seen  else- 
where these  records  of  an  age  when  time  did 
not  mean  money. 

The  march  was  in  the  nature  of  an  anti- 
climax, for  we  had  thought  always  of  Coblenz 
as  our  goal,  and  the  good  fortune  in  which  we 
had  played  as  regarded  weather  during  our 
march  down  the  valley  of  the  Moselle  had  made 
us  supercritical  concerning  such  details  as  a  long, 
wearisome  slogging  through  the  mud  in  clumsy, 
water-logged  clothes.  At  length  we  reached  the 
little  village  of  Niederelbert  and  found  that 
Lieutenant  Brown,  whose  turn  it  was  as  bil- 
leting officer,  had  settled  us  so  satisfactorily 
that  in  a  short  time  we  were  all  comfortably 
steaming  before  stoves,  thawing  out  our 
cramped  joints. 

With  the  exception  of  Lieutenant  Furness 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    249 

my  officers  belonged  to  the  Reserve  Corps,  and 
we  none  of  us  looked  forward  to  a  long  tour 
of  garrison  duty  on  the  Rhine  or  anywhere  else. 
Furness,  who  had  particularly  distinguished 
himself  hi  liaison  work  with  the  infantry,  held 
a  temporary  commission  in  the  regular  army, 
but  he  was  eager  to  go  back  to  civil  life  at 
the  earliest  opportunity.  In  Germany  the 
prospect  was  doubly  gloomy,  for  there  would 
be  no  intercourse  with  the  natives  such  as  in 
France  had  lightened  many  a  weary  moment. 
Several  days  later  regimental  headquarters 
coveted  our  village  and  we  were  moved  a  few 
miles  off  across  the  hills  to  Holler.  We  set 
to  work  to  make  ourselves  as  snug  and  com- 
fortable as  possible.  I  had  as  striker  a  little 
fellow  of  Finnish  extraction  name  Jahoola,  an 
excellent  man  in  every  way,  who  took  the  best 
of  care  of  my  horse  and  always  managed  to  fix 
up  my  billet  far  better  than  the  circumstances 
would  seem  to  permit. 

The  days  that  followed  presented  little 
variety  once  the  novelty  of  the  occupation  had 
worn  off.  The  men  continued  to  behave  in 
exemplary  fashion,  and  the  Boche  gave  little 
trouble.  As  soon  as  we  took  up  our  quarters 
we  made  the  villagers  clean  up  the  streets  and 


yards  until  they  possessed  a  model  town,  and 
thereafter  we  "policed  up"  every  untidiness  of 
which  we  might  be  the  cause,  and  kept  the  in- 
habitants up  to  the  mark  in  what  concerned 
them.  The  head  of  the  house  in  which  I  was 
lodged  in  Niederelbert  told  me  that  his  son 
had  been  a  captain  in  the  army  but  had  de- 
serted a  fortnight  before  the  armistice  and 
reached  home  in  civilian  clothes  three  weeks 
in  advance  of  the  retreating  army.  Of  course 
he  was  not  an  officer  before  the  war — not  of 
the  old  military  school,  but  the  fact  that  he 
and  his  family  were  proud  of  it  spoke  of  a 
weakening  discipline  and  morale. 

Now  that  we  had  settled  down  to  a  routine 
existence  I  was  doubly  glad  of  such  books  as  I 
had  been  able  to  bring  along.  Of  these,  O. 
Henry  was  the  most  popular.  The  little  shil- 
ling editions  were  read  until  they  fell  to  pieces, 
and  in  this  he  held  the  same  position  as  in  the 
British  army.  I  had  been  puzzled  at  this 
popularity  among  the  English,  for  much  of 
his  slang  must  have  been  worse  than  Greek  to 
them.  I  also  had  Charles  0' Motley  and  Harry 
Lorrequer,  Dumas'  Dame  de  Monsereau  and 
Monte  Cristo,  Flaubert's  Education  Senti- 
mentale,  Gibbon's  Rise  and  Fall,  and  Sorrow's 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    251 

Zincali.  These  with  the  Oxford  Books  of 
French  and  English  verse  and  a  few  Portu- 
guese and  Spanish  novels  comprised  my  li- 
brary, a  large  one  considering  the  circum- 
stances. It  was  always  possible  to  get  books 
through  the  mail,  although  they  were  generally 
many  months  en  route. 

Soon  after  we  reached  the  bridge-head,  officers 
of  the  regular  army  began  turning  up  from  the 
various  schools  whither  they  had  been  sent  as 
instructors.  We  all  hoped  to  be  released  in 
this  manner,  for  we  felt  that  the  garrison  duty 
should  be  undertaken  by  the  regulars,  whose 
life  business  it  is,  in  order  to  allow  the  men  who 
had  left  their  trades  and  professions  to  return 
to  their  normal  and  necessary  work.  In  the 
meantime  we  set  out  to  familiarize  ourselves 
with  the  country  and  keep  our  units  in  such 
shape  that  should  any  unforeseen  event  arise 
we  would  be  in  a  position  to  meet  it.  The 
horses  required  particular  attention,  but  one 
felt  rewarded  on  seeing  their  improvement. 
There  were  many  cases  of  mange  which  we  had 
been  hitherto  unable  to  properly  isolate,  and 
good  fodder  hi  adequate  quantity  was  an  inno- 
vation. 

For   the   men   we   had   mounted   and   un- 


WAR  IN  THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN 

mounted  drill,  and  spent  much  time  in  getting 
the  accoutrements  into  condition  for  inspec- 
tion. During  part  of  the  march  up  rations 
had  been  short,  and  for  a  number  of  days  were 
very  problematical.  Sufficient  boots  and  cloth- 
ing were  also  lacking  and  we  had  had  to  get 
along  as  best  we  could  without.  Now  that  we 
were  stationary  our  wants  were  supplied,  and 
the  worst  hardship  for  the  men  was  the  lack 
of  recreation.  A  reading-room  was  opened 
and  a  piano  was  procured,  but  there  was  really 
no  place  to  send  them  on  short  passes;  nothing 
for  them  to  do  on  an  afternoon  off.  When  I 
left,  trips  down  the  Rhine  were  being  planned, 
and  I  am  sure  they  proved  beneficial  in  solv- 
ing the  problem  of  legitimate  relaxation  and 
amusement. 

My  father  had  sent  my  brother  and  myself 
some  money  to  use  in  trying  to  make  Christ- 
mas a  feast-day  for  the  men.  It  was  difficult 
to  get  anything,  but  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  very  kindly 
helped  me  out  in  procuring  chocolates  and 
cigarettes,  and  I  managed  to  buy  a  couple  of 
calves  and  a  few  semi-delicacies  in  the  local 
market.  While  not  an  Arabian  Night  feast,  we 
had  the  most  essential  adjunct  in  the  good  spir- 
its of  the  men,  who  had  been  schooled  by  their 


IN  FRANCE  AND  GERMANY    253 

varied    and    eventful    existence    of    the    past 
eighteen  months  to  make  the  most  of  things. 

In  the  middle  of  January  my  brother  and 
I  left  for  Paris.  I  was  very  sorry  to  leave 
the  battery,  for  we  had  been  through  much 
together,  but  in  common  with  most  reserve 
officers  I  felt  that,  now  that  the  fighting  was 
over,  there  was  only  one  thing  to  be  desired  and 
that  was  to  get  back  to  my  wife  and  children. 
The  train  made  light  of  the  distance  over 
which  it  had  taken  us  so  long  to  march,  and 
the  familiar  sight  of  the  friendly  French  towns 
was  never  more  welcome.  After  several  months 
on  duty  in  France  and  Italy,  I  sailed  on  a 
transport  from  Brest,  but  not  for  the  wonderful 
home-coming  to  which  I  had  so  long  looked 
forward. 

THE  END 


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